


As Above, So Below

by WeAreTheCyclones



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Realities, Alternate Universe, Fix-It, M/M, Season 8 Spoilers, post-season 8
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2019-09-26 20:09:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 81,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17148323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeAreTheCyclones/pseuds/WeAreTheCyclones
Summary: Season 8 Spoilers**Allura dies, Shiro gets married, Keith takes for the skies.Or... alternatively: Allura lives, Keith gets married, Shiro takes for the skies.And, inevitable, they find each other.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Some of the "Core Reality" stuff is not consistent with the season 8 finale but oh well. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> For reference, the "Alternative Reality" is pretty much the same but the differences are:  
> 1\. Keith was raised by both parents and knew who he was all along. Mom was off being a busy Blade and that was why he was a punk ass at the Garrison.  
> 2\. Keith's path to the Blade of Marmora was more of a following in mom's footsteps thing that he was able to do fairly similarly to in canon. Maybe it was more of a him searching for his mom thing.  
> 3\. Allura lives, binch.

_Core Reality_

The party rages on and on and on. Keith can hear it through the open window of his Garrison dorm. He’d left it about ten minutes ago. He should probably go back. But…

Curtis, the dude Keith never even talked to the whole time they were out saving the universe together, had grabbed Shiro and kissed him in front of everyone and everyone but Keith had cheered and cheered and wolf whistled and called for more. 

Keith instead downed a glass of champagne and snuck out when he thought no one was looking. He’d chewed on his thoughts as he walked a long, ambling path back to the barracks. 

It’s not that he was in _love_ with Shiro. It’s not that he's _heartbroken_. 

Truth be told, Keith had only distantly thought of him (or anyone) in that way. The marriage and sex way. It’d been inconclusive then and it’s inconclusive now too.

But there was something about watching their relationship grow and seeing the milestones and hearing about how amazing Curtis is and how much Shiro loved Curtis and Curtis this, Curtis that…

Keith didn’t even see it, but the others did. They said they saw Shiro talking to some guy in the mess hall. They saw Shiro working out with some guy. Then the guy became “the weapons guy on the bridge” and then he became Curtis and then he became Shiro’s boyfriend. It wasn’t until the latter identity that Keith really noticed him.

But fuck it. He’s not in love with Shiro. There’s nothing unrequited about it. Maybe it’s just that he feels left behind.

Shiro was always leaving, always in danger of disappearing. This was never a way of leaving that Keith thought he had to worry about. 

HIs eyes slide out of focus from staring at his reflection in the window more than the dark desert beyond. For a second, Keith swears he sees another version of himself coming up behind him. He blinks hard, refocusing his eyes, and the impression is gone. A soft knock at the door snaps his attention back to the fact that he’s just standing in the middle of the room vaguely drunk and totally lost.

“There you are,” Krolia says when the door slides open.

“Hey.”

“How’re you feeling?” she asks, voice dipping low and sweet. She touches his elbow and guides him to sit on the twin-sized, hospital-tucked-sheets bed with her.

“I’m fine, really, I just needed some air you know, all those people and sound and… you know, and champagne really just…” He makes the gesture of an explosion with one hand and trails off.

“Hm.” She rubs his back. “It must have been hard watching him get married, but you gave a beautiful speech and you did a great job being there for him. I’m proud of you.”

Keith’s eyes burn, he rolls them dramatically to avoid letting them tear up. “It’s not like that, mom.”

She raises a skeptical eyebrow. “I guess I never knew how you felt about him.”

“What do you mean?” he asks, overly defensive. “He’s my friend, we’ve been through a lot together. Want to know how I feel about Pidge and Hunk and Lance too?”

“Easy,” she murmurs. 

“They can also all go off and get married whenever they want to and I’ll have no feelings other than… the normal good ones. Obviously.”

She continues to rub his back, hand moving up to the nape of his neck, but doesn’t say anything.

He gets his feelings back under control. He hates arguing with his mom. He hates talking to her like that. The kid he was who desperately wanted to know her would kick him in the shins for speaking to her that way. But in this case, a softened heart is a damn doorway.

“I don’t know how I feel about it, actually. I’m happy for him but I’m… so sad. For myself maybe. But I don’t know why. And please don’t say it’s because I’m in love with him, I’m not and it wouldn’t matter anyway.”

She nods in thought, eyes focused on the carpet between their feet. Her gaze slides to him and he can feel her analyzing him. 

“You two are on different paths again,” she says. “I think that’s a good enough reason to be sad.”

She’s right. He nods, a small wave of relief lapping at him. 

“Do you want to be married?” she asks. 

The tone of her voice can only be described as “trying not to sound skeptical” so he laughs. Surprise raises her eyebrows.

“No,” he says. “I’ve never really saw that for myself anyway. Maybe another reason why I’m sad, I sorta thought Shiro would be the same way now.”

“Some people find great joy in marriage,” she says very matter-of-factly. 

“Yeah, I guess.”

“And some people don’t. Some people prefer their work and their friends and their independence.”

Keith thinks he’s one of them. He takes a breath deep enough to stretch his ribcage, the deepest breath he’s taken in ages, and lets it out slowly. He’s starting to feel better already.

“Which one are you?” Keith asks. 

“I found joy in both work and being with your father,” she answers. “Sometimes the balance isn’t in your favor.”

He doesn’t miss the sorrowful note in her voice. They exchange a knowing look. 

“But,” she says, her hand falling from the back of his neck to rest on her own knee. “You and your friends made this universe a safer place, people like Shiro will be able to balance both. You’re not losing your friend to his husband.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I’ve got a good record,” she says with a warm smile. 

They sit in silence for awhile, Keith mentally willing himself to come to terms with all of this before he heads back. He doesn’t want to miss sending them off. He wants to catch sight of Shiro’s gleaming smile, his glowing joy… 

And when Shiro’s off planet, off on his honeymoon… Keith has to be busy, he has to be gone and doing something important and distracting. 

As if she reads his mind, Krolia nudges him with her shoulder and says, “You should come back out with us.”

He’d been with the Blades in the immediate aftermath. He couldn’t sit still, he couldn’t let himself lose any more days to mourning. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Allura walking away into a light she never returned from and it never felt right. (It still doesn’t.) So he left as soon as he could to go with Krolia and Kolivan. They reached out to all the known surviving Blades, they reached out to remote Galra bases and took over pirate militias to deactivate them and sought out all the refugees to reunite them on the new Daibazaal. 

Within the year, Keith could speak another language. He knew about his grandparents. He’d met cousins. He felt more sure of himself than he ever had, even as a Paladin of Voltron. And the mourning still dogged him at every turn b ut his voice didn’t hitch when he called upon Allura’s memory when giving a speech imploring the Galra to join the Galactic Coalition. 

When he returned to earth, he’d meant to do it for good. Lance had settled into a quiet life, Pidge was working closely with her family, Hunk was becoming a culinary diplomat and killing it. And Shiro told him he was proposing to Curtis, the guy from the bridge...

Krolia takes Keith’s silence as trepidation. 

“We’re thinking of transitioning the Blade of Marmora to a humanitarian organization. Daibazaal is moving away from the makeshift government we set up and getting back on its feet. I think you have a future in all this, a real role.” The look she’s giving him is hopeful and proud. “Kolivan and I need another capable hand. One connected to a good heart.” She reaches out and gently touches Keith’s cheek. 

The touch warms him. He feels his blood singing and surging like a tide, reaching up for the stars. He misses being out there. His knife, always nestled into a holster at his thigh even now that the war is over, seems to grow hot. 

“Think about it, at least?”

“I’ll do it.”

He’s not sure there’s anything to keep him here.

**

_Another Reality_

Shiro watches Keith take Tabor’s hands. He watches from behind his right shoulder, from where he’s standing in support. He watches them lean their foreheads together and say their vows. He watches the rings. He watches the kiss.

And for a second there’s a ghost-like impression of his own form hovering before him and when he blinks it’s gone and the crowd is cheering and Keith is married. 

Shiro’s had the same fake smile laying in wait all day. He’s pulled it out for pictures and for pep talks and for this. He’ll put it on again for the best man speech that’s folded and waiting in his suit pocket.

Keith holds Tabor’s hand back down the aisle, Shiro and the other Paladins—the wedding party—follow. 

It’s not exactly heartbreak. 

But it’s close. 

“You don’t approve?” Krolia asks him later when she sits at his otherwise empty table for a rest from dancing. 

“It’s not that,” Shiro says. He knows there’s no point in pretending he doesn’t know what she’s getting at. “Tabor is a great guy. Keith’s happy.”

She tilts her head a little and waits for Shiro to continue on his own. Her presence is light as a feather. Shiro can see the way she so easily slipped into her life as a double agent. He also knows she’s just like that. Kind and patient. 

He also knows she could break his back with the flick of her powerful wrist. Keith’s marriage is safe from him, it always will be. And if it wasn’t, Krolia would probably intervene. 

“Besides, it’s a great…. Step forward for the Galra isn’t it? A peacetime marriage. Keith’s the New Galra Hope, right?”

Shiro knows there’s something to that. Tabor is a cousin of the former royal family, Keith is the son of a highly ranked member of the Blades _and_ a human. Old guard meets diverse, open-minded new guard. 

She huffs a laugh and shrugs a shoulder. “That’s not why they’re getting married,” she reminds him. 

“I know.”

And he does. He saw the change in Keith when they met. When Keith came back from his first mission with the Blades and looked moony and distracted in moments of rest. Shiro saw Tabor’s name on a chat window always open on Keith’s tablet. Shiro saw Keith’s utter panic when they thought the entire organization had been wiped out by the druids and his utter relief when he finally connected with his signal again. 

One of Krolia’s large, clawed hands rests on Shiro’s wrist. “You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong. You’ll be okay, Shiro.”

Shiro smiles, a small closed lip thing that feels like it shifts his sore heart with the motion. “Thank you.”

And then Keith appears, arms falling around Shiro’s shoulders from behind. His sharp chin rests on the top of Shiro’s head. “Come dance, Shirogane. The grooms insist.”

Krolia gives Shiro a sympathetic look before beaming at her son. 

“Both of them, huh?” Shiro asks. 

And of course Tabor is right behind Keith. One of his hands, so much like Krolia’s, settles on Shiro’s shoulder and the other on Keith. “Both of us,” he confirms with a smile in his voice.  

“Go on,” Krolia says, waving the three of them on. 

“You too, darlin’,” a deep voice with a Texan accent says. Keith’s father edges past them around the table and offers his hand to his wife. “Come dance.”

Shiro lets himself be dragged to the dance floor and thankfully, Allura spots him immediately and pulls him into a confusing almost-waltz. “Are you just dying?” she asks, voice pitched low.

“I’m fine, just not a big dancer,” he answers. 

She huffs but she lets him get away with it. 

Shiro’s thing for Keith really can’t possibly be that transparent, right?

When the next song is a slow song, Shiro expects Lance to swoop in and steal his girlfriend back. He looks over her head and scans the crowd. Lance, Hunk and Pidge are raiding the dessert table. Allura drops his hands and steps closer, her arms coming up around her neck. 

“Shiro,” she says, drawing his attention back. Her brow is furrowed and she’s frowning at him. He loosely rests his own arms around her waist and she smiles. “He’s busy,” she says, waving her hand in Lance’s vague direction. 

“His loss,” Shiro faux-flirts. A smile splits her face, bright white. 

He still remembers sometimes… he still thinks about watching her walk into the quintessence-white field ahead of them, the place no one else could follow. He remembers the hollow ache of loss.

Allura, very much alive and in his arms, steps on his feet and laughs. Her body folds closer to his and he laughs and tightens his arms around her. Shiro never had a sister, now he has two. 

When that blinding light had faded to black, when all Shiro could hear was the others breaths and sobs, he’d seen her outline like an after-image. And then the outline moved.

Shiro never knew relief to feel so total. 

Here and now, with all realities in tact and with Allura still alive when they were sure she’d be gone forever… Shiro can reach through how he’s feeling and hope that another version of him somewhere was on the other end of Keith’s vows. There’s wonder and possibility at every turn in this universe.

“You’re okay,” Allura says softly. She rests her hand on his cheek and kisses the other. “You’re going to be okay.”

“Am I that obvious?” Shiro asks, voice barely a whisper.

“You’re bleeding all over everything, but it isn’t fatal.” 

“Do you think he knows?”

She shakes her head minutely. “He’s so in love he can barely see straight, Shiro.” She says it apologetically at least. And he knows she’s right. 

So Shiro lets himself be held and coddled. Allura makes him laugh again and again. Lance finally tries to cut in and she turns him down. Hunk takes Lance into his arms and their dance is exaggerated and taunting. Pidge appears and catches him by surprise when she pops a small pastry into his mouth.

After laughing and choking a little, he catches Keith’s eye. Keith gives him a warm, beautiful smile over Tabor’s shoulder. Where he’s nestled as they dance. He’s incandescently happy… Shiro smiles back. This one he means even if it costs him something.

When the festivities are winding down, Keith finds him. His hand slides into Shiro’s, soft and warm, and he tugs until Shiro follows.

“Thank you,” Keith says. “Best best man a guy could ask for.”

“No sweat, you can pay me back at my own wedding some day,” Shiro says, trying for jovial and possibly actually hitting the mark.  


Keith grins. “Absolutely.” 

“You happy?” Shiro asks, even though he knows the answer.

“Yeah,” he answers with a breathless laugh. “I never imagined this for myself.” 

“What? Marriage?”

“Yeah. It’s amazing I found someone, you know?”

“Nah, you were always going to find someone amazing.”

Keith might blush a little, but it’s hard to tell in the dim lighting. “Thanks, Shiro.”

Shiro finds himself pulled into a hug that knocks the breath out of him. He hugs back.

“Are you two sneaking out soon?” Shiro asks. His heart twists.

“Yeah,” Keith says sheepishly, fighting down a smile.

“Well, have a great honeymoon. See you on the other side.”

“Atlas is coming to Daibazaal soon, right?” Keith asks. 

Shiro nods. “We’ll be in that quadrant in the next couple of phoebs.” 

“You’ll have to stay with us a couple of days, okay? Promise?”

Shiro promises. Keith hugs him one last time, grinning, and makes a beeline for his husband. 

** 

_Core Reality_

The royal hall still sets Keith’s nerves on edge even after everything that’s happened. The Galra Empire just has that evil villain look going for them, by Earth’s standards at least. The severe, cold structures in gleaming black. The purple light. The dark red accents. Mostly, it’s Keith’s memories of how all their battleships strived to look like this. How they all set his blood roaring in his ears and made his muscles go tense as springs. He was always ready to fight for his life, for everyone’s lives.

But now, Kolivan sits at the head of a conference table. Former warlords and pirates and generals and rulers of defeated planets sit with him. 

They’re talking about a vote. They’re talking about helping former colonies become sovereign again. Keith is just waiting to be called upon to suggest a new future for the Blade of Marmora while his mom sits stoically, strongly beside him. 

“Keith,” Kolivan says, voice ringing out. Everyone turns to look at him. Krolia’s hand squeezes his knee under the table. “Has an idea for the transition of the Blade of Marmora.”

With all the confidence of the leader of Voltron, Keith lays out his idea to find all the strongholds of the Blades and get them back online and functional. Once functional, they can act as hospitals and shelters for nearby refugees. They can tap into the Galactic Coalition for resources and manpower as needed. He has documents full of coordinates and contacts. Pidge helped him compile climates and atmospheres and crops, languages and political systems. Hunk and Shiro helped with the personal dynamics. He spent _time_ and care on this. He’s passionate about it.

Everyone around the table nods. Kolivan even sorta smiles in his own way. 

“And,” Keith continues. “I was thinking of folding Lotor’s former generals into the effort.”

He’s ready to be met with resistance but no one says a thing.

“Acxa has been eager to reintegrate and find a new purpose. Ezor and Zethrid could use a way to prove themselves. They’re military, they need a structured way to de-program.”

Kolivan looks between the other Blades present before nodding. 

Next thing Keith knows, he’s putting everything into motion. Kolivan and Krolia help him at first, but mostly just with logistics and transitioning the other remaining members. They all trust him implicitly and quickly, its trusting others that takes time. And before they head out, Keith’s only half sure they’re ready to approach refugees with any amount of softness. But… they trust him enough to follow his lead. And maybe the new mission directives will ease the way.

It’s smooth flying. They locate all the bases and strongholds, they perform repairs and reprogram as necessary. They expand medical spaces and make the barracks more welcoming. They leave a small crew behind to keep things operational and they head to the next. By the end, it’s just Keith, a couple Blades, and the former generals.

And Ezor and Zethrid are an acquired taste, but Keith’s getting there. Zethrid is just as intense as ever, but Keith hears humor in her voice now. He doesn’t feel his adrenaline kick in every time she turns a corner anymore either. Ezor’s teasing is constant and sometimes still lands in a meaner way than can be called friendly but he likes her. And they’re both very much so a couple.

Acxa gives him a sympathetic look when he scurries away from a room they’ve commandeered for _activities_ that sounds very breathy and giggly. 

But being around Acxa makes Keith feel blushy and awkward. Most of that is Ezor’s fault. He thinks there’s a half-truth to her teasing about them being into each other, but the truth doesn’t lie on his side. 

“It’s not like that, you know?” Acxa says before Keith can hightail it away. 

“What? _They_ aren’t? Because it sure sounded that way. 

She laughs. “Oh no, they definitely are. But… I know Ezor lays it on thick about us.” She gestures between them.

“Oh.”

She nods stiffly. “You’re not my type.”

“Oh are you like…?” he gestures toward the room he ran from.

She gives him a puzzled look. “You’re short,” she says simply. “And small.”

“I was asking if you were gay but thanks,” Keith answers sharply.

“Gay isn’t a concept to us.”

“Right.” He’s ready to stalk away, pride bruised, but she puts out a hand and stops him.

“I look to you because you’re proof that you can choose your own path and that your upbringing or your blood or your mistakes don’t define you. I feel like… in another reality, I may have made the same allegiances and choices that you did.”

Oh. Keith isn’t sure what to say, so he gives her what he hopes is a soft and understanding look. Her soft, returning smile seems to say it did.

“And every time you blush and react and deny, you give her ammo. You have to just give it right back to her and she’ll love it.”

“Heh, I’ll keep that in mind.”

Later, when Keith’s almost asleep, Tabor’s voice comes over the intercom to tell him there’s something weird on the radar.He sends a snapshot of it to Keith’s tablet and asks how to proceed. 

It looks like a vein in the marble of the sky. Just a flash of white and void twisted like a chain and jagged against the opalescent nebulae beyond. The energy being put out reminds Keith of the rifts that usually coincide with destroyed planets and abandoned ships full of quintessence, places where other realities can be tapped into. 

Keith meets Tabor on the bridge. “Pull closer, carefully.”

They hadn’t found a single scrap of evidence that the other realities had been saved, they could only hope and assume. They could only have faith in Allura’s sacrifice. But Keith wavered. He’s always been a waverer. And in times when he misses her the most, in times he catches Lance staring out a window, in times they’re all together and feeling her absence…he wavers even more.

Tabor’s gold eyes bore into him. “Sir,” he says stiffly. “It’s not safe, it shares the energy signature of a black hole.”

“Just a little closer, please.”

He sighs and adjusts their trajectory. Keith presses his face and hands close to the window. 

For the first time in awhile, Keith feels certainty in what happened to them. Like sacrifices have a purpose. Like he can almost hear Allura encouraging him.

“Keith,” Tabor says softly. “We’re feeling the pull…”

“Adjust to original trajectory.”

He feels the engines whirring and the momentum shift just a little. The light of the rift grows more distant. Keith watches it disappear, Tabor staying silent and keeping his eyes on the instruments.

Keith points his thoughts toward that reality, all the possibilities it contains. He sends his best wishes and fondest hopes his own way. To Shiro and Hunk and Pidge and Lance and Coran and everyone they love. And he hopes Allura’s there too. 

Once the light is lost amongst the pinpricks of stars, he silently heads back to his room.

After a fitful night’s sleep and a morning spent desperately missing his friends, Keith drags himself to the mess hall only to find Tabor reading his tablet over a bowl of goop.  

“You know,” he says, hardly looking up. “There have been a few other rift sightings lately.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

Tabor shrugs. “I think it’s the normal state of the universe.”

Keith nods and considers his caffeine options. 

“Not to undermine,” Tabor says when Keith sits across from him. “But perhaps we should keep our focus on the mission.”

Keith raises an eyebrow. “I agree.”

“Perhaps wait until the first phase is complete.” With that, Tabor collects his things and stands. “That is, if you want.”

Which seems to say that Tabor wants to just as much. 

**

_Another Reality_

There are parts of their known universe that should be unstable. The Atlas is maneuvering through one right now. The sky around them is splintered like a broken mirror, energy readings go crazy anywhere near it, but it’s safe. Somehow. 

Shiro knows Pidge could explain it, but he prefers the magic of not knowing.

This is a place where realities are a breath away from each other. Allura leans over the rail in the observation deck, eyes trained on them. Shiro doesn’t entirely understand her relationship to this place, but he can guess. Allura lost a part of herself when she willingly laid down her life for the worlds beyond those fractured lights. Whatever it was before that let her manipulate energy and quintessence was gone. 

She said it felt like a phantom limb sometimes. Like she could remember the thrill, the feeling. But flowers didn’t grow at her touch, she couldn’t see into other planes of existence. She said it was like losing a sense.

The lions, though. The lions always responded to her. Glowing eyes as she passed, respectful roars, the occasional bow. 

“They’re just being nice,” she said, hand resting on the cool metal of the Black Lion’s front paw. 

Shiro didn’t point out that the lions never felt an impulse to be nice before. They were much more impassive with everyone else, even their own pilot. 

But this expanse of universe must call to her like something primal. Like a sunflower to sun, a wolf to the moon, parent to child. She smiles, her face lit from within and without. The threads of silver reflect in her eyes. Her Altean marks glow faintly.

She gave up everything just so those realities could remain. Just so all those lives and stories could spin ever onward. They’re not hers, but she loves them as if they were.

“Allura,” Shiro says in greeting. “Curtis said you wanted to see me?”

She tears her eyes away, still caught in the distant web for a few seconds more. “Oh yes.”

She hops down from the rail and turns to face him, wringing her hands. “I think I’ve an idea about how to safely travel between the realities.”

Oh. Shiro tilts his head. “Why would we want to do that?" 

They’d done it before, mostly on accident. They still felt wild and dangerous and uncertain. 

“Anthropology,” she says. “Not to interfere, not to meddle, not even to… take up the banner again, which is what Lance thinks I’m interested in. It's not. We’ve fought our battle and we’ve won and we cannot save everyone in every reality more than we already have, but Shiro.” She says his name breathlessly, excitingly. “Aren’t you curious?”

Of course he is. 

“And besides, Pidge said it might be wise to keep an eye on the stability of the rifts and we could use some sort of satellites to monitor the stability.”

Shiro rolls his eyes.  

“Princess, if you want to fund and staff such a mission I cannot tell you otherwise.”

She practically bounces with excitement. “Shiro, you muuuust come. Aren’t you ready for more adventure?”

She’s an adrenaline junky now. It must be the high of survival. 

“What’s the show you humans like? Star Track? To infinity and beyond, remember?”

Shiro blinks. “I think you mean something more like “space, the final frontier,” but sure.”

“Fine. Don’t you want to see what’s out there?”

He does. He won’t take the Atlas through that though, the Atlas has its purpose. And the Atlas, as of now, is his responsibility and his calling and his home. 

“We could do small, scouting missions. Take the lions,” she says. 

“We can’t form Voltron without Keith.”

She shrugs. “Pidge can outfit us all with stealth shields and we’ll just poke around, no need for Voltron.”

“But we’ll be without Black.”

“Excuses, Shiro. And maybe Keith would like to join, we haven’t asked him yet.”

He won’t. He and Tabor have a cozy life on Daibazaal. Tabor was voted Prime Minister, Keith has a seat in their parliament. He’s the head the Galactic Coalition’s humanitarian efforts. Not a chance.

Allura sees all that and more written on Shiro’s face. She pats both his cheeks and squeezes his face between her hands. “Shiro, you will never find your own path if you don’t look for it.”

“I’m on a path, Allura.” 

“And you’re still heartsick, all these months later. And we keep pushing back that visit to Daibazaal.”

“We keep finding planets in need."

“Uh huh." She crosses her arms.

"Are you suggesting I go into another reality and find a boyfriend?”

“Well, either that or you open your eyes and see that Curtis has been flirting with you for ages now.”

She looks too thrilled at all this.

“Curtis?” he asks faintly. He can’t muster a feeling about Curtis other than: “He’s my subordinate.”

“So was Keith. But no, I’m not actually suggesting you go into another reality and find a boyfriend, I’m suggesting you stop letting your broken heart be your guide. So what if Keith can’t join us? Why should we keep putting off the Daibazaal trip? Heal, explore, find yourself, find some joy in your work, and let’s _go_.”

When she puts it like that…

“When we touch down on Krell and the crew has their marching orders… let’s fly out and check it out.” 

**

_Core Reality_

“Are you sure that’s safe?” Shiro asks, slowly spinning a beer bottle back and forth between his hands.

Keith’s eyes catch on his wedding ring, transfixed by the gold band and how it looks against the creamy color of Shiro’s hand.

“I’m not,” he answers after a while. He takes a long glug of his own beer. 

Shiro rubs his chin, looking at Keith thoughtfully.“I should go with you.”

Keith bristles involuntarily. “That’s the last thing I need.”

Shiro looks hurt but sets his jaw against responding. He holds both hands up in defense before folding them back on the table. He fiddles with his ring. Keith’s insides are twisting and twisting.

“Sorry, I just. Curtis would kill me. I heard you two are grounded now, working at the Garrison.”

“Yeah.”

That’s it. _Yeah_. 

“Pretty lame,” Keith goads. 

He scoffs. “Yeah, well. I don’t think it is,” he says, softer. Keith feels a twinge of regret at hurting his feelings. “We’re thinking of starting a family, it’s the right thing to do.”

Wow. Keith takes that like a heavy punch to the stomach. “Great. So, see? You’re not coming with me. Absolutely not.”

Shiro stays silent for awhile. Keith does too. 

Shiro doesn’t need Keith anymore, hasn’t for awhile. And turns out, Keith doesn’t need him either. He can keep himself safe. Curtis has Shiro’s back now. And beside, they’re fine. They’re fine and Keith is a call away no matter where in the universe he is… 

“It’s weird to think of you going places I can’t follow,” Shiro says.

Keith reaches over and taps Shiro’s wedding ring. “I know the feeling.”

Shiro frowns. “You’ll have this someday if you want it.”

Before Keith can close his hand around Shiro’s, before he can try to impart more meaning than he has any business imparting to a married guy, he reaches for his tablet instead. 

Tabor is uploading coordinates and flight paths and contingency plans to their shared drive. Which is exactly what Keith told him not to do on their last night before heading out. He’s supposed to be relaxing. Though, Keith certainly isn’t. And besides, he’s pretty sure Tabor doesn’t have an off-mode anyway.

“Keith,” Shiro says, drawing his eyes back to him. “Are we okay?”

“We’re fine. Different paths and all.” Keith gathers his things and stands. He slides some money out of his wallet and onto the table. “I have to go look over some mission docs.” 

Shiro frowns.  

“Congratulations on the family thing, that’s really great. I can’t wait to see that, I’m happy for you.” Keith hugs him, a bit awkwardly. “I love you, I’ll see you when I’m back.”

“Be safe,” Shiro says, patting his back firmly. “I love you too.”

Keith meets Tabor at the ship, no point in delaying.

“I thought you were enjoying your night,” he says, toneless.

“I thought you were too,” Keith says in an accusing way. 

“I was.”

“Well, so was I. But I’m excited to get going.”

Tabor actually smiles.  

They request to move up their departure using the Teladuv. They set course for a Marmora base closest to a field of anomalies Tabor had heard whispered about in a bar on Daibazaal and confirmed the existence of when talking to the mystic leaders of a previously undiscovered planet. When they get to the base, they'll be calibrating their systems and running tests and picking up Acxa. And then they'll be off.

After, they’ll be right back on mission with the Blade of Marmora. Keith needs to be back at Daibazaal for the inauguration of their new Prime Minister and parliament. This is, technically speaking, the only break they are scheduled to get in a year. 

Keith hopes it’ll be worth it.

**

_Another Reality_

“That’s insane,” Keith yells, voice crackling with static. The connection is shoddy at this distance, this close to the anomalies. “We still don’t know enough about it, what if you just go in and get nuked?” 

“The lions—“

 “You can’t even form Voltron. I’m…” Shiro sees him look over his shoulder toward another, unseen room. “I’ll talk to Tabor, I’ll come with you guys just _wait_ and do some more thinking. This is suicidal. Allura shouldn’t even be—“ The feed freezes. Keith’s face stuck in a half-blink, mouth open mid-lecture. Shiro slams his palm against the side of his tablet as if that’ll help.

“Keith? You’re frozen. Can you hear me? Listen, we’re going. We don’t need to form Voltron, Pidge has upgraded all the cloaking capabilities, we’re not going in guns blazing. It’s an exploratory mission. And besides—“ Keith’s feed crackles and comes back. Keith seems to have heard everything. He’s sitting back with his arms crossed and a worried crease in his brow. “Besides,” Shiro continues. “You have a husband and a seat in government and you are _needed_.” 

“You’re needed too. All of you are. If you all get hurt… if you all get hurt and it’s just me left…”

“We’ll be safe.”

“I’ll never forgive you if you disappear, Shiro.”

Shiro refuses to read into that. He can hear a voice in the background, he knows it belongs to Tabor. 

“You’ll scour the universe to get us back anyway,” Shiro says, shooting him a confident smile.

Keith rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I will.”

“So we’re covered.”

“Shiro, be safe. Come back without a scratch. I mean it.”

Shiro holds his eye contact in a way that is … excruciatingly familiar. A long-held connection point between them. A check in. “I swear,” he says.

Keith heaves a sigh and rubs his forehead before straightening back up and nodding. With a wry twist of a smile, he says, “If you run into another me, tell him I say hi.” 

Shiro grins. “I will.”

“Are the others around? I want to wish them luck too.”

Shiro goes and grabs them, plops them in front of the screen, and stands back while they all chatter at each other. He notices Keith doesn’t give any of them a hard time. Though, he does screw his mouth tightly shut when facing Allura. He knows there’s no use in telling her to be careful. She will be as careful as her own heart and instinct allows. Shiro wonders how much Keith knows about her connection to the mission.

** 

_The Rift_

Of all the infinite possibilities, there are plenty in which the Paladins met at the right places and the right times and came together. And there are fewer but still plenty among those in which the Paladins became Paladins at all. Sometimes, the universe didn’t need them. Sometimes, the universe found others. Sometimes, they were born way before or way after the conflicts that would have called on them. 

There are exponential realities in which some, but not all, of them come together. There are innumerable realities where they don’t meet at all. 

And there are ten in which Shiro and Keith fall in love. And in all ten of them, it’s a lifelong love. In six of them, they have children. In eight of them, they have pets. And only in three of them are they paladins of Voltron. 

The weird thing is, the probability of Shiro and Keith knowing each other is higher than the probability of _any other_ combination of connections between the Paladins.  

And in all the worlds in which Keith and Shiro are not together. almost all of them are tinged with wanting. 

So it’s not completely unlikely, all things considered in the vast and unknowable expanse of existence, but it is incredible that a Shiro from one reality and a Keith from another should both embark on two separate missions headed right for each other.


	2. Chapter 2

_The In-Between_

Turbulence. But not too much. Acxa watches readouts while Keith focuses all his attention on piloting through the force exerted on their craft. Tabor is strapped in with his arms crossed and a critical eye on Keith. 

“Coordinates?” Keith asks between gritted teeth. The whole cruiser starts to rattle, he feels it start listing to one side.

Tabor rattles some off, Acxa nods in confirmation. 

It wasn’t strictly possible to target a specific rift. They laid a grid over the field and pinpointed a promising cluster. The best they can do is track their entry point and their exit. 

“Trans-Reality Shield is holding strong,” Acxa reports. 

Keith’s deepest fear lets up a little. Hunk and Pidge had assured him it wouldn’t fail, but still… if it had, he doesn’t know what would have happened.

And then they’re through the rift with a snap of sound like a sonic boom, simple as that. Tabor reads off their coordinates, Acxa records it, calibrates her navigation panel, and confirms. Keith scans the sky around them, letting the craft’s’ computers note differences and look for patterns among the visible stars while his heart rate steadies. 

Tabor frees himself from his harness and mutters something about checking on the flight systems before disappearing to the engine room.

“We did it,” Acxa says, sitting back.

“We did,” Keith confirms. 

“I’m surprised the Shield worked.”

Keith laughs. “And you agreed to come anyway?”

She smiles and shrugs. “Risk taking is a Galran trait.”

Keith checks the engine room feed and sees Tabor banging on something with a wrench. He’d rather not know. He pulls up a menu and searches for any news feeds or broadcast channels.

“I’m missing the newest episode of _Bii-Bo Me,_ ” Keith jokes wryly, making Acxa snort. But really he’s trying to get a sense of the reality. Whether or not it’s peaceful. What era they’ve landed in. The state of the Galra empire. Whether or not Voltron is doing its thing.

He comes to find that this reality is, politically and socially speaking, like theirs but decades further along. A Galactic Coalition is in place. Skirmishes in outer moons get squashed with diplomacy rather than battles. The Paladins of Voltron, Keith and his friends, are just turning gray but seem to be mainstays in the celebrity gossip circuit.

Tabor reappears and scoffs at Keith for his self-indulgent deep dive on his own other reality self.

“Hey, I age well,” Keith defends, closing the window. “And apparently I’ve got the biggest fleet of racing pods in the universe and—”

“All right, hotshot, is it safe to travel?” Tabor asks, cutting him off.

Keith grudgingly hands over flying duty to him so he can continue researching. He wants to find Allura…

Allura.

She really did what she intended to do. His heart swells with pride and sinks with loss. He breathes through the opposing feelings. Just as he settles into the passenger seat and adjusts the harness down to his height, the whole cruiser jerks forward in sudden impact.

“What the fuck was that—?”

“We’ve been hit by four crafts flying in close proximity,” Acxa yells over the alarms and warning bells. She pulls up the radar, Tabor enables the zaiforge canons and looks to Keith for a command.

“Wait,” Keith barks. 

His blood runs cold. He recognizes those shapes on the radar.

“Receiving transmission,” Tabor says, nudging Acxa with his elbow and pointing to the display. 

Her eyes are wide open and glued to the screen too but she reaches over to accept.

“Connected,” she says distantly.

“Status report? Are there any injuries aboard?” a voice comes over the speakers.

“Shiro?” Keith asks, his breath dying in his throat.

**

The Lions don't have enough space to slow down before being flung into the back of the Galra cruiser ahead. Shiro, standing beside Allura in the Blue Lion, is sent flying ass over tea kettles into the control panel. The others are yelling, reporting their status and scrambling for a command. 

“Is it friendly?” Hunk’s voice cuts through.

“If it wasn’t, it’d have shot us down already, their canons are up!” Lance barks back.

“Opening a communication channel,” Pidge says, shaking but strong. “Let them know we’re friendly before we get blasted, Shiro.”

“How are they this close to the rift?” Allura asks, shrill.

“I bet they just came through too,” Shiro answers, rubbing the already swelling goose egg on his forehead. The communication channel opens and Shiro leans over Allura to be better heard. “Status report? Are there any injuries aboard?”

A crackling silence responds and then a faint, “Shiro?”

“Identify yourself,” Shiro says, keeping his voice as neutral as possible. He recognizes that voice…

“This is a private cruiser, identification information transmitting on an open channel. I am Keith Kogane, Paladin of Voltron and Lieutenant of the Blade of Marmora. No injuries to report. Identify yourselves. How do you have the Lions?”

All the Paladins fall silent. 

“Identify yourselves or prepare for canon fire,” Keith commands, the panic evident in his voice.

“No need, no need,” Shiro stutters out. “We are the Paladins of Voltron. This is Takashi Shirogane flying in Blue with Allura. Pidge Holt in Green, Hunk Garrett in Yellow, Lance McClain in Red. We have a Keith Kogane where we’re from too.”

The other ship is silent for some time.

“This doesn’t feel right,” Allura whispers, slowly reaching for her bayard. There’s movement from the weapons deck on the cruiser, making them both tense up. The canons retreat back into their panels. Lance swears in relief. 

Another voice comes over the channel. “This is Tabor, General of the Blade of Marmora. Any injuries to report?”

“Tabor!” Allura breathes. “No injuries to report.”

More silence and then yet another voice, this time a woman’s. “Permission to come aboard if desired. Bay door prepared to open. There’s space for all four of you.”

Shiro looks to Allura. Allura chews her lip uncertainly. She shrugs. “Your call?”

Shiro takes a deep breath. “We’ll take that offer, thank you,” he says. 

**

Allura. Keith freezes. Keith shuts down. He’s here, at least partially, to look for her. And she found him. 

Her and all their friends.

Tabor and Acxa handle things while Keith sits and stares at the ground, overwhelmed.

“Get it together,” Tabor says, clapping him on the shoulder. “They’re coming aboard.”

“They’re _what_?” Keith asks, snapping back to it, but he’s already headed to the bay.

Acxa kneels in front of him now. “They’re friendly, they’re not from our time, that’s all I could figure out. C’mon, boss.” She offers a hand to him and pulls him up by it. 

He’s standing with his arms crossed tightly over his chest when the Lions are brought in. Goosebumps spring up on his arms just looking at them. They’re identical to the ones he knows. He feels the same old crackle across his skin when he looks into Red’s eyes. He wonders where Black is. He wonders if he and his Lion are okay in this reality. 

The first person to disembark is Pidge. She looks the same as ever, but the look she gives him is nervous and guarded. Hunk follows, helmet under his arm and an easy, diplomatic smile on his face. Keith feels soothed just seeing him.

“Keith, is that really you?” Hunk asks, walking a couple steps closer. 

Tabor tenses next to Keith, on high alert. Beyond Hunk, Keith watches Lance head to Blue. He watches Shiro stride past, confidently walking to stand beside the others. Keith can hardly look at them. Lance extends his hand and Allura appears and takes it. 

Allura.

“She’s alive,” Keith says, unable to stop himself.

“Uh, yeah,” Hunk says, looking over his shoulder toward her.

Keith can feel Shiro’s eyes boring into him but he can’t return the gaze. Not yet.

“Welcome, Paladins,” Acxa says, elbowing Keith hard in the ribs. 

“Hello,” Keith says lamely.

He hadn’t accounted for this possibility. At least not so immediately and awkwardly. 

“Are you from this reality?” Pidge asks.

Keith shakes his head. “We’re visitors too.”

“What are the _chances_!” she exclaims, fists balled up in the same pure delight he sees all the time on his own Pidge. 

He can’t help but smile.

Sensing safety, she surges forward. “We gotta compare notes, we gotta land somewhere and check it out!” She looks at him up close, adjusting her glasses. “You look almost exactly the same.”

“So do you,” Keith tells her.

Lance looks at him uncertainly, arms crossed. Keith can read the question in his mind. “Yeah, we’re friends, we’re good,” Keith directs his way. 

“Phew,” Hunk breathes dramatically, purposefully knocking into Lance as he heads for Keith and his crew. “Acxa, we know you where we’re from too,” he says, holding his hand out for her to shake.

“Oh,” she says, nervously looking toward Keith. “Friend or foe?”

“Foe, then friend.”

She smiles a little and takes his hand. “Good.”

Keith gets the impression that things are pretty similar where they’re from. Aside from Allura… He needs to talk to her, he needs to see if she knows anything.

“Do the Lions need any repairs?” Keith asks. He desperately wants some face time with them.

“They’re fine,” Shiro assures. “But…” He makes eye contact with all his Paladins in turn. “We’d love a chance to talk. We’re going on a couple exploratory missions into the rifts.”

“We want to monitor their stability,” Pidge contributes. “I need to research how to open up communication between realities first though.”

“Huh,” Keith says, looking toward Tabor. “Maybe you two should talk,” he says to him. Tabor had mentioned wanting to test out those possibilities too.

Tabor nods, unsmiling. “If you’re half the mind Pidge Holt from our reality is, that would be an honor.”

The comment makes Pidge blush a furious red. 

“And that’s the nicest thing Tabor has said in years,” Acxa teases. 

 

**

They navigate to a nearby, hospitable planet and find a bustling little city to check out. The second they find a bar with arcade games in it, Lance and Pidge are entranced and dragging them inside.

Shiro wants to talk to Keith, to this version of his best friend. Alone. The feeling seems mutual.

Shiro keeps checking this Keith’s ring finger. It’s bare. As is Tabor’s. And there seems to be nothing but friendly yet rough banter between them. He hasn’t been able to help but analyze their body language either. It seems companionable, if not somewhat professional. 

There’s nothing there.

“What are you staring at?” Keith asks him, snapping Shiro out of his thoughts and observations.

“Oh.” He looks around, everyone else is gone. 

“They’re playing some game,” Keith says, gesturing behind him somewhere.

“Oh,” he says again.

Keith shoots him a look that’s equally uncomfortable and some unidentifiable brand of nervous. Shiro knows this man. He knows him. There’s no doubt about it. And yet there’s a whole lifetime of mystery. Divergences from his own Keith. This Keith has the same scar as his, a scar Shiro (in a way) gave him. But this Keith has long, wild hair tied back away from his face. This Keith has a gravitas to him that can only come from loss. 

“Alright, you’re creeping me out,” Keith says. “Just ask.”

“Ask what?”

“Whatever it is you’re trying to figure out by staring at me.”

Where to start? Shiro shifts on his barstool. He shoves his drink away from him and leans forward. “The last time I heard from you, I was telling you you couldn’t ditch your husband to come play in an alternative reality with me.”

Keith’s eyebrows shoot up in shock, but his lips twist in an amused smile. “My husband! Wow. Who’d I marry?” He sets his elbow on the table and props his chin in his hand. 

Shiro can’t help but smile along. “I think you’re going to think it’s weird.”

“Lay it on me.”

“You married Tabor.”

Keith’s mouth falls open. Tabor returns to the table to grab his drink just in time to hear his name and nothing else.

“What about me?” he asks.

“We’re married in their reality,” Keith says, gesturing to Shiro and saucily taking a sip of his drink in Tabor’s direction.

Tabor pulls a face. “But you’re so small.”

Keith’s face falls. “Fuck off back to your game,” he says, waving him away. “They all call me short,” Keith explains to Shiro after Tabor has left.

“He doesn’t mind where I’m from. But, anyway, my Keith told me to tell any other Keith’s hello for him. So. Hello.”

“Hello right back.”

There might be a flirtatious tone to it. Or Shiro might just hope there is. 

“What about me?” Shiro asks. 

“Married too,” Keith says, tone shifting to fake nonchalance. 

“To who?”

“Curtis.”

Shiro groans. “Don’t let Allura hear that.”

“Why not?” he asks, sounding disinterested. He traces his fingers through the condensation on his glass instead of looking at Shiro.

“She thinks he likes me.”

“He does, a lot. In my reality. So… maybe he does.”

“I don’t like him though. Not like that.”

Keith shrugs one shoulder. 

Shiro weighs his options. It might be cathartic to confess his feelings to this Keith. It couldn’t possibly upset any balances in any realities because this Keith knows the same things Shiro does about the risks… So why not? They have one night to talk and then they’ll be heading back to their own worlds. Shiro has nothing to lose.

“Watching my Keith get married was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I was best man and everything.”

Keith’s eyes snap to his. They hold eye contact, analyzing each other. The sounds of the bar seem to fade away, but that might just be the rushing of blood in Shiro’s head.

“I was your best man too. His. My Shiro. And it sucked.”

Shiro swallows around the lump in his throat. He has to ask. “Why did it suck?”

Keith tilts his head one way and then the other. “I’m still figuring that out.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean, you and Curtis are grounded now. Working at the Garrison. Because…” he hesitates and laughs disbelievingly. “Because you two want to start a family. I’m so not… that’s so not even on my radar. I never imagined a world where Shiro and I weren’t on the same path and now we’re completely different people.”

Shiro can’t help but laugh at the mere concept of that. He rubs his face, scrubbing away the image. “Living back on Earth with _Curtis_ so we can have _kids_ … Jesus.”

Keith lets out a breath. “Yeah, it’s so lame.”

“It kinda is, yeah.”

“But… I mean, what am I doing?”

“Tabor is Prime Minister, you’re in the parliament, you’re… busy as hell, I guess. You just got married about six phoebs ago now, I don’t think you’ve even considered kids. But… I also haven’t asked.”

Keith shakes his head. “That’s insane, that’s not me.”

Shiro shrugs.

“So why was my wedding hard for you?” he asks.

Shiro freezes up. This was the thing he could never say to his Keith. Can he say it to this one? He can barely even say it to himself.

Keith is patient though. Much like his own Keith, he’s not one for filling silence unnecessarily. 

“Just know,” Shiro starts. “That I would never do anything to compromise your happiness or your relationship. You’re really in love with him.”

“Okay…”

Shiro takes a deep, deep breath and lets it all the way out before speaking again. “I’ve had feelings for you— my Keith, I mean—for years.”

**

“Shit,” Keith breathes. His heart is still pounding from Shiro’s confession and it’s not even geared toward him. 

Shiro nods, not meeting his eyes. 

Keith is compelled to say something back. Something about how he’d always had a crush on Shiro even though that didn’t matter much to him anymore. Something about how he’d distantly, at one point, maybe thought Shiro liked him only to realize how stupid and unlikely that was. 

The longer Keith doesn’t say anything, the more the Shiro before him squirms. 

So he clears his throat. “In my reality, you’d never have liked me like that,” he says, cheeks burning.

Shiro looks up at him, skeptical. 

“I don’t know how your Keith turned out but. I was just an orphan—“ Shiro flinches? “—Who made him put his ass on the line for me to keep me at the Garrison every time I got in trouble. And then we got swept up into the Voltron thing and… well, did your original physical form die while your conscience was kept in the Black Lion only to be put back into your evil clone’s body?”

Shiro laughs. “Yeah.”

Keith grins at him. Not sure why. Maybe just the shared ridiculousness of all that, the pure unlikeliness.

“I think when things settled, with Allura gone and everything you’d been through… I think Curtis felt like home to you. Like… calm and chill and normal.”

“And what does that have to do with you?”

“Nothing. It doesn’t have anything to do with me, much like most people’s love lives.”

Shiro nods thoughtfully. After a moment, he sits up straighter and looks nervous when he asks, “You’re an orphan?”

Keith’s gut wrenches. “I didn’t know my mom until more recently. Krolia, she’s amazing. So no, I’m not an orphan exactly. Why? What about in your reality?”

“I know both your parents, they’re on Daibazaal…”

Ouch. Ouch ouch ouch. “My dad’s alive?”

He nods. Keith needs another drink. 

In that reality, Keith has both parents…. Allura’s alive… Shiro’s in love with him… He breathes through it, not wanting to show too much emotion in front of this near stranger. He’s… furious and jealous. But this was always a risk, wasn’t it? Finding out that things are better in another reality? And things certainly seemed better there… 

“Hey,” this Shiro says softly, hand reaching across the table to touch Keith’s. “I’m sorry.”

Keith shakes his head, dismissive, and pulls his hand away. “I don’t need your sorries. It’s fine. I’m going to join the others, what do you say?” 

Shiro nods but he looks sheepish.

He wants to forget what Shiro’s told him as much as he can and he wants to talk to Allura. 

When they find everyone, Pidge and Acxa are locked in a battle in some racing game, the others gathered around to watch. Keith eyeballs Tabor, trying to see what his other reality counterpart sees. Tabor glares at him like he knows that’s exactly what he’s doing. 

He’s handsome, Keith supposes, for an 8 foot tall alien with a bad attitude. 

Hunk greets them warmly and launches into suggesting they find their counterparts in this reality. He wants to eat at his own restaurant. Lance chimes in saying he wants to see his and Allura’s palace on New Altea. 

“Coran will flip out to see us and then we can tell him all about it when we go back to our own realities and he’ll flip out again,” Lance concludes.

“All of us stay on Altea a lot of the time, according to the gossip blasts,” Hunk finishes. “We could probably meet most of us if not all of us. I want to see if Pidge gets any taller.”

“Hey!” she barks, not tearing her eyes off the screen.

The thought of telling Coran that he got to see Allura one more time is already daunting enough. The thought of telling him he saw her twice, one of those versions of her grown and settled… He frowns.

“Allura, actually,” he says, courage at an all time high. “Can I talk to you?”

Tabor’s scowl drops and the look he gives Keith is downright sympathetic. 

“Of course, Keith,” she says brightly. 

Keith guides her outside for the fresh air and the quiet. This planet looks like an old western cliche, the town built in wood and stone with saloons lining the street. The holographic billboards and robotic shopkeepers calling out greetings to people who pass break the illusion though. There are aliens of all kinds milling around and Keith feels some amount of pride in the peace that seems to preside here. 

“Let me guess,” Allura says when Keith fails to start the conversation. “I didn’t survive where you’re from.”

Keith leans against the wall and lets his head drop toward his chest for a second before nodding. Compassion washes over her features. She leans beside him and sighs.

“I thought so. The way you looked at me…” She turns her head to look at him. “I knew the possibility. I walked into it willingly. I knew my father and mother were on the other side and that I wouldn’t be alone in that journey. I knew all of you had each other and wouldn’t be alone either. I knew it was the right thing to do.”

“I know.”

“It worked, too, it wasn’t for nothing.”

“I know,” he says, softer.

She sighs. “Is Lance…?”

Keith shrugs. “He’s healing.”

She frowns deeply, casting a look back toward the door in thought. 

And finally, Keith musters the courage needed to ask, “How did you survive in this reality? And the one we’re in? Did you have to make the same choice?”

She chews her lip and fiddles with something in her pocket. 

“Every version of me had to make the same decision,” she says after a moment. “That’s why it worked.”

Keith stares at her.

“Not all of us continued on in our reality, but some of us were able to.”

“What does that mean?” he asks, voice creeping toward desperate.

She shrugs. “It’s a little beyond my understanding. That moment seemed to be a pivotal one in existence, I don’t know why. It was a convergence point… I wish I could explain, Keith, I’m still trying to come to terms with it myself.”

“I can imagine,” he says. 

“That’s why I wanted to come here, I wanted to see what the sacrifice preserved. It was selfish…”

Keith smiles. “I don’t think so. I came here to see the same thing.”

She grins back. “Is it selfish then to be flattered by that?”

He huffs out a laugh. “No, I don’t think it is.” What he really means is that if he can impart any love or appreciation onto any version of Allura… he’s glad. He’s thankful. 

“You know, in some realities, my entire existence was wiped away. Anyone left who knew me would have no recollection at all. I think the idea of that is the most terrifying of all. But it hurts me to know that there are plenty of realities where I’m mourned. I actually don’t know which way is better.” She takes the thing out of her pocket and turns it over in her hand. Whatever it is catches the light and sparkles between her fingers. 

“I think it’s better to remember you,” Keith says truthfully. He’s so glad they remember her…

She looks at him, her face affectionate. “Thank you,” she mouths. She pushes away from the wall then and holds her fist out to him. “Here.”

He extends his hand, palm up to take it. 

“Can you take that to your Lance? Tell him what I’ve said?”

It’s a blue crystal, glittering against Keith’s palm. Every finely cut facet of it catches light and throws it back. Keith’s breath catches.

“Isn’t this from your crown?”

She nods.

“I thought it was powering Shiro’s arm?”

She tilts her head at him in confusion. “No.”

It strikes him then that Shiro’s arm is attached here… not the large, hovering extension he’s become so used to. There must be thousands, millions of minute differences between their lives, all of them leading to thousands, millions more origin points. Different choices, different dynamics, different series of events.

Keith closes his hand around the crystal and slips it a zippered pocket in the lining of his coat. “I’ll give it to him.”

When they go back inside, Keith’s eyes meet Shiro’s right away. His cheeks flush. He yearns, just a little, for a piece of their reality. But even more so, he misses his friends, the versions of them he knows. He wants to see Lance as soon as he can. He wants to tell them all what Allura told him. And he misses his Shiro. 

But there’s something about this Shiro too… something he wishes he could keep.

**

“I think it best we part ways here,” Keith says, sitting tall. Tabor sits to his right, Acxa to his left. 

They’re in the mess hall on Keith’s cruiser, hands wrapped around warm drinks to chase away their headaches. Shiro and his team had been planning their journey to Altea while the other three had stayed eerily silent. 

“Oh, no, you have to come!” Pidge implores. “Don’t you want to hear everything?”

Shiro watches Keith’s face carefully. It doesn’t budge.

“Of course, but I think it’s best I maybe come back with the other Paladins if we want to make contact. And we need to be getting back.”

He misses them, he must. 

“Phase 2 of our mission back in our reality begins day after tomorrow,” Acxa explains. Tabor nods.

“Do you have everything you need?” Keith asks, a leader-like note of affection in his voice. “Food, water, oxygen?”

“We do, thank you,” Shiro answers. “We’ll head out after a night’s sleep if that’s okay with you?”

“Of course.”

Shiro hates the re-emergence of formality. “One last night to compare notes then?” he suggests. The corners of Keith’s lips rise imperceptibly. 

So they do. It stays fairly light-hearted too. Keith’s reality features a poorly done Voltron cartoon with a goblin-like Pidge. Their reality had Keith shirtless on a lot of digital magazine covers after the war, a fact that makes this Keith flush bright red while Acxa and Tabor howl with laughter. 

The next morning, they say their goodbyes. Shiro feels leaden and slow, like he wants to stay behind while the others go play. Keith has been impassive, emotionless since their one on one talk at the bar the night before. 

They all promise to tell their Keith that this Keith said hi, Keith promises to tell the Paladins of his reality hello for them. He shares a soft, meaningful look with Allura who tears up just a little before hugging him. It feels cruel now that they can’t communicate between realities, that this could very well be the last time they see this particular Keith and the last time he sees them.

Shiro’s feet drag toward the Blue Lion…

He feels Keith’s eyes on him…

He turns and catches them. 

“One second,” Shiro says to the others, and jogs back. “Keith… let’s meet again.”

His mouth opens as if to speak but nothing comes out. 

“Same place, a year from now?” Shiro suggests. He has no idea what compels him. not really.

Keith doesn’t seem to take it in but he does faintly repeat, “A year from now?”

Shiro nods, opening a holographic version of his calendar between them. He adds the event to his calendar with a question mark and looks very seriously into Keith’s eyes.

“Okay.” His own calendar opens between them and he adds it too. He clears his throat and swipes it away with a wave of his hand. 

Shiro nods once, holding his gaze. Keith’s cheeks glow pink. He nods too. Shiro turns and rushes back to the Blue Lion’s ramp.

“Travel safe,” Acxa bids them. Her and Tabor wave them on, Keith has his arms crossed and a complicated look on his face. Acxa nudges him and reminds him to wave too.

Shiro can feel Allura’s speculative, x-ray vision on him once they get going. Keith’s cruiser disappears in their wake but Shiro’s mind is still there.

**

_Core Reality_

Keith tells Tabor… well, everything. Acxa is in a zen place piloting them back to the base, Keith can’t stop pacing, Tabor is there and staring at him critically. So why not.

“Ask for a weekend to go back to Earth, that’s an important delivery and conversation,” he says.

Keith stops his pacing to look at him long and hard. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve always had sympathy for you and your friends,” he answers simply. “Phase 2 is mostly intake and damage assessment of planets in need.”

Keith knows, he designed the phases himself. It’s his project, it’s his passion. Tabor clicks his tongue at Keith’s conflicted silence. 

“Once operational, take a weekend.” 

Keith doesn’t confess that he’s dreading this too. He’s dreading the tears and the questions and the overwhelming emotions sure to spring up. He starts chewing on a thumbnail and sets to pacing again.

“Why does that Shiro want to meet with you again?” Tabor asks.

Keith’s feet stumble, Tabor shakes his head at him. “Probably to see if we’ve fallen in love yet,” Keith snaps at him. 

Tabor lets out a mean laugh, hand on his stomach, head thrown back. “Not a chance, Lieutenant.” 

“He said we were very in love in his reality,” Keith argues. Not that he wants to be in love with Tabor here, but still… knowing is a weird thing.

“Then best wishes to us,” he says. “It’s incredible to find love in any reality.”

“So are you happy for other reality us?”

“Of course. But you’re still too short. And pale. Strangely hairless, too. If you took more after your mother, perhaps…”

Keith scowls at him, he laughs his mean laugh again.

“In our reality, he and his husband are very in love,” Tabor points out. “And in his, he has no interest in his husband’s counterpart.”

“Yeah, and?”

“You just seem to care a lot about these differences,” he points out. “These connections aren’t universal. Romance is not the main plot in your life, it would seem.”

He’s right, but it’s rude to say it like that, Keith thinks. 

He waves his arms as if to chase off a gnat and goes to his own room to think in peace.

**

_Another Reality_

In what they’ve all started calling “The In-Between,” their older selves were… incredible.

Allura and Lance were married and delighted to see their younger counterparts. The four disappeared to a private conversation that lasted all day and ended with each respective couple gazing at each other lovingly.

Older Pidge wasn’t physically there, but the two had an hours long video chat. Older Hunk hosted them all expenses paid at his restaurant and proudly introduced his younger self to the entire staff and showed him everything. Hunk came out of it with a secret recipe and stars in his eyes for his own future. 

Older Shiro and older Keith weren’t together here either. But they were close. So close it made Shiro’s eyes water. He’d had that relationship with Keith once, maybe he’d have it again. The two of them took Shiro out racing and their taunting banter acted as a balm to him. 

He told them the things he’d found out too. About how in his reality, Keith was married to Tabor (“Who?”) and in the other, Shiro was married to Curtis (“The guy from the bridge? He’s got seven kids, none of them mine. I have a Christmas card from him saved somewhere…”). 

“What about you?” Keith asked. 

He looked younger than the rest of them, his Galra blood at work, but the skin around his eyes was softly crinkled in the way of pilots—from squinting at the horizon, maybe, or from a lifetime of laughing and grinning and cheering. 

“I’m admiral of the IGF-Atlas. The war ended a year and some change ago. The Galactic Coalition is hard at work. Keith, you’re on the parliament for Daibazaal.”

Keith nodded in interest. “Those were the days, huh Shiro?”

Shiro, hair just as silver as his but his face handsomely aged, smiled a sparkling smile at both of them. “Yeah, once the war was over the fun began. Make a point of making friends, kid,” he said directly to Shiro. 

“Did either of you end up marrying anyone?”

They both shook their heads, not an ounce of regret to be found. “Marriage isn’t everything,” older Shiro said.

Keith scoffed. “It’s a waste of time. Hunk’s been married and divorced more times than I can even remember. He’s a romantic. Friends with all his exes too, because it’s Hunk. And Pidge stayed single like us. It’s only the Blue Paladins who made it work, but we’re all happy how we are.”

Shiro felt and still feels… relief. Relief that the multitude of options exists and that a lot of them probably lead to satisfaction.

But as they were getting ready to leave, Older Keith caught Shiro by the wrist.

“I don’t know anything about the dynamics, I don’t know how that other Keith you met feels, but… if you have something to say to me, say it,” he cautioned in a near-whisper. “Just say it.”

Shiro can’t stop playing the interaction over and over again in his head. He keeps trying to analyze it…

“Just say it,” Shiro repeats to himself back in his own room on the Atlas. He runs his fingers along an unspent token from the arcade in that unassuming arcade bar they’d found themselves in. Keith had pressed it into his hand at the end of their night there…

**

_Core Reality_

Lance takes Keith’s story with incredible poise. Keith almost doesn’t make it through with a dry eye, but Lance is fine. He turns the crystal over and over in his fingers, keeping his eyes trained on it.

He’s been different ever since everything happened. He hardly wanted to leave the Earth’s surface unless to visit New Altea. He’d lost his taunting, immature edge. He’s softer than Keith ever thought he could be. Not exactly sad, not exactly quiet. But not _not_ those things either.

“Thanks, Keith,” he says. Keith watches his hand close around the crystal. 

“Are you… okay?” Keith asks.

He nods. “It’s sorta comforting, isn’t it?”

Keith agrees. But… “But it’s so unfair too.”

Lance nods again. “She seems to get that, from what you said…”

“Yeah.”

“It’s okay,” Lance assures him. 

“I have… they told me how to get to them, do you want to know?”

Lance looks off at a vase full of fresh juniberry flowers. He flexes his hand around the crystal and his Altean marks glow. “No, I don’t think so,” he finally decides. Keith’s heart sinks but when Lance turns his face back to him, he’s smiling. “I’m okay, really.”

Keith believes him for some reason. “Okay but… you gotta stop hiding out here,” he says, gesturing to the house and the farm beyond. “This isn’t you.”

“Right now, it is.”

“Forever?”

“Not forever.”

“Promise?”

Lance carefully sets the crystal down on the table in front of him and leans over to punch Keith in the shoulder. “Mind your own business, man.”

And that glimmer of Lance’s old self makes Keith grin. 

On his long solo trip back to the base, he opens his calendar and stares at the date now just 11 months out. With the ship on autopilot, he lets himself wonder about it. What that Shiro wants. What that Shiro feels. His own Shiro is so predictable, but he doesn’t dare assume this one is too.

Because if he did, he’d tell himself that Shiro felt something for Keith. Not just his Keith, but maybe that’s the driving force. 

Keith pulls up a picture other reality Pidge had insisted on taking of them all. He zooms in on Shiro. He rests his elbow on his bent knee and props his chin up to stare.

This really can’t be a thing, he tells himself. Thinking this deeply about a man he sorta knows but definitely doesn’t know. He can’t even contact him. Not even if he wanted to.

Does he want to?

He didn’t make time to see his own Shiro when he was back on Earth. He made a cheap excuse about having an earlier Teladuv time than he did. Shiro offered to pull some strings and Keith made another excuse about the entry point being super strict about that and needing to be back to the base on time… as if he doesn’t run the operation himself.

He feels bad for that. 

Shiro’d sounded hurt when he suggested Keith stay over with them next time. Curtis would love to show him around the new facilities at the Garrison and Shiro’d love to show off his barbecue prowess. 

Keith put it in his calendar even, but that’s not the day open on his holodeck. 

He pulls up a picture of his Shiro, one of him in dress uniform after the war ended. He wants to compare the two. He wants to note every single difference, if there are any.

**

_Another Reality_

“Took you long enough,” Keith says haughtily, standing with his arms crossed on the balcony above the landing strip.

Shiro tugs his helmet off and stares up at him. Keith has a landing strip outside his house. His huge, severe, black onyx house. 

“Nice digs,” Shiro calls up to him wryly. 

“Thanks,” Keith says sharply. “Prime Minister perks.”

“I’ve been busy,” Shiro reminds him. 

“You said you’d be around here eight phoebs ago. And then you said you’d for sure be here two phoebs ago. And then you told me you’d _maybe_ have time to stop by today…”

“And I’m here now, so I guess I did have time.” Shiro can’t help the attitude, he can’t help the irritation he feels and he feels bad for it.

But Keith cracks and laughs. “Get up here, Shirogane!”

The sound of his voice still tugs at him. Shiro takes the elevator up and Keith launches into his arms the moment the doors slide open. 

“I’ve missed you!” Keith says. 

Shiro checks his ship over his shoulder and sees honest to God attendants looking it over. “Hey—“ he starts.

“Leave it,” Keith says. “They’ll just wash it and fuel it up.”

He shoots Keith an incredulous look. Keith shrugs, and there he is. He still feels precious about his crafts too. 

Keith leads him in and Shiro watches as he walks. His hair is cropped short at the back of his neck, but the sides and front are longer. He’s got a lightness in his step and a confident sway of the hips. Shiro wonders if that’s how marriage looks on him or if it’s how politics look on him.

Either way, he can’t help but think of that other Keith with his longer, untamed hair and the tightly wound but agile energy of a wildcat.

“Tabor’s in meetings, he’ll be back for dinner,” Keith says, showing him into an office. Keith gestures to a couple arm chairs by a fireplace lit with a purple flame and he sits. Keith sits in the other. He smiles at Shiro. “So, how were the other Keiths?”

Shiro’d told him about the other reality. He mentioned saying hi to them and talking to them but not much else.

“They’re powerhouses just like you. Older you didn’t look a day over 30, the other reality you has a ponytail.”

Keith grins. 

Before he can ask another question about it, Shiro shifts the conversation to him. “How are things with Tabor?”

“Really good,” he says, noticing the tactic but not mentioning it. 

“Married life treating you well?”

“Yeah it is.”

“You know,” Shiro says before he can help it. “Other reality you and Tabor work together too. With the Blade of Marmora.”

He grins. “Are we a couple there too?”

Shiro feels a twinge of jealousy and anger that he has to fight down. “No, Tabor thinks you’re too small. You two don’t have the chemistry to be a couple there.”

Keith is obviously amused by that. “Don’t tell him that, he’ll like it too much.”

Shiro obviously won’t tell Tabor that because he wouldn't tell Tabor anything ever anyway, but he doesn’t say so. 

“Are you guys going to check out any other realities? Pidge was telling me about the satellites she’s developing?”

Shiro tells Keith about the next few trips they have planned. Keith has a longing look on his face. Shiro knows what that means.

“You can’t come,” Shiro tells him.

“I haven’t flown further than a solar system away in forever,” he says. 

Shiro will not feel bad for him. He won’t.

“Maybe just one time? The parliament has a few recesses a year, Tabor wouldn’t mind.”

Tabor this, Tabor that. Shiro will not be ugly about that. He’s Keith’s husband, his consideration in Keith’s plans is to be expected.

“Maybe once.”

Keith brightens. “Black would love it, seeing the other lions and all. It’s been a long time.”

Shiro nods… and then he stops. He doesn’t have a Lion to himself. How the hell is he going to head back into that other reality to meet Keith in ten months?

“What’s wrong?” Keith asks.

“I have a solo trip planned,” Shiro says, not sure why. 

“Oh? To where?”

“To that first reality.”

“Why?”

He can’t tell him, right? He absolutely shouldn’t. He hears a door open and Tabor’s voice, clearly on a call. He sees Keith check the house’s security map on his tablet and smile. 

“I’m seeing you again.”

“Me?” he asks distantly.

Shiro nods.

“Other reality me?”

“Yes,” Shiro says. His cheeks are hot…

“Why?” Keith asks, looking at Shiro carefully. 

“That,” Shiro starts, finding it hard to vocalize. “I couldn’t explain.”

For the briefest second, it looks like Keith understands something. His face shutters. 

“Darling,” Tabor says from the door, voice warm and affectionate. “Shiro, I thought that was your ship out there. Nice to see you!”

Keith stands, robotic, to greet his husband. He doesn’t look at Shiro. “Are you ready for dinner?” he asks him after a quick kiss, hand on his chest.

Shiro looks at Tabor’s arm tight around Keith’s waist and wonders what it means that he doesn’t feel a thing about it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating bump just to be safe because of Sexy Themes!!!
> 
> Nervous Author Note: Any out of characterness is intentional either because of it being a Different Version of them or because they're interacting with a Different Version of their friend.

_Another Reality_

Shiro avoids Keith like the plague. He’s so dedicated to staying completely unreachable that he petitions the Garrison for a change in trajectory and an updated mission directive that takes them to the farthest known quadrant away from Daibazaal. It’s a location that allows him and the other Paladins to explore rifts on days off though, so Shiro tells himself it’s the right call. 

But Allura actually slaps the back of his head when she finds out. “What is wrong with you?” she asks, shrill. “There’s a Coalition meeting I’m supposed to be at in a phoeb, we have work to do! There are other rifts that we can get to from anywhere!”

Shiro feels cowed but doesn’t show it. Yes, they have work to do, absolutely. But Shiro wonders what could possibly happen if Keith, who figured something out, maybe mentioned that something to his Prime Minister husband. Would it be a diplomatic disaster? Would Tabor’s Blade training resurface? Would Krolia join him?

He’s a coward, he knows. 

And no matter how far he runs, no matter how long between contact, Keith barges in when he wants to.

“Incoming transmission, sir,” Curtis says, turning in his seat to look up at Shiro at the helm. “It says it’s a private message for you. High priority.”

Shiro nods, says he’ll take it in his quarters, double checks the radar and heads out. 

He’s expecting Iverson to call any day now, that must be it. He sits and accepts the transmission only to find himself face to face with Keith.

“Oh,” he says before he can help it.

“The only way I can get you to talk to me is if I tell your crew not to tell you who’s calling,” he accuses sternly.

Shiro can’t even argue with that. He swallows nervously but keeps his gaze steady.

“What can I do for you, Keith?”

“Hi, hello, nice to see you too. I’m fine, wondering if Allura will be able to make it from Fuck All Solar System in the Shiro Hates Keith Quadrant.”

Shiro’s shoulders droop and he lets his head loll from side to side. “I’m sorry.”

“You can’t do what you did, say what you did, and then disappear for eight months.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” It’s not that Shiro confessed anything, it’s just that Keith assumed something. That’s inadmissible evidence. 

“You’re going to see my other universe counterpart. You were being weird about it. I reacted to the fact that you were being weird about it because I have no idea what it means. Are you going to go kill me? Are you going to mine me for information? Are you just interested in his perspective? I don’t know, but you not telling me makes me think the worst of it. You avoiding me for this long confirms that it’s the worst.”

“It’s not.”

“So what is it? And I meant my question, is Allura going to make it?”

“Yes, she’s going to make it.”

“Cool, now answer my question.”

Shiro rubs his forehead and looks around his room in thought. “Truth be told, I don’t know why I asked him to meet again. I think it’s just… their reality is so similar to ours, and not all of them are. Some of them are completely different. And aside from him and the older version of us, we haven’t made contact with any counterparts.”

“If it’s so similar, why do you need to check in?”

“It’s similar but there are some major key differences. Allura didn’t survive there, your father died, the Lions left,” Shiro argues.

Keith frowns deeply. “My father died? When? How?”

“When you were young, you were orphaned.”

“Where was my mom?”

“You didn’t know her until recently.”

“God…” He sits back and crosses his arms. “Wait, the Lions left?”

Shiro nods. 

“Where’d they go?”

Shiro shrugs. “I just want to know about their reality, I want to see if there are any lessons to be shared.”

Keith considers him, scanning for any tells. Shiro still gets the impression that Keith knows it’s more than that but he has the decency not to mention it. Finally, he sighs. “How are you going to travel into the rift?”

“Pidge and Hunk have been looking into Trans-Reality Shields, that’s how the other Keith traveled.”

“What about Black?” Keith asks.

“That’d be way easier, yeah.”

“So why don’t you ask me?”

“Because I don’t want to,” Shiro admits. 

Keith rolls his eyes and scowls. “You’d have to come to Daibazaal to pick her up and re-sync with her.”

“I know, that’s why I didn’t want to ask.”

“You’re such a coward, Shiro.”

Shiro bristles. “Thanks.”

“When Allura comes here, you come with her and you can take Black.”

“If she’ll even let me.”

“She’ll let you, she still recognizes you as a pilot.”

“I can just use the shield technology.”

“So that’s how badly you don’t want to see me?” Keith asks. “I want you to take Black, you’ll be safer.”

Shiro’s stubbornness falters. The way Keith sounded pleading on the word “safer” disarms him. 

“I trust Black to take care of you more than anything else in the universe,” Keith says softly. “Please?”

“Fine. You win.”

“It’s not about winning.”

Shiro hangs up on him.

**

_Core Reality_

In the intervening months, Keith keeps busy. 

He focuses on his work. He sits in on council meetings with the Galactic Coallition. He visits his friends. He keeps his promise to Shiro and Curtis, he plays nice. 

Curtis shows him around the new communications and assembly facilities. Shiro, the man who can burn spaghetti, is actually great at barbecuing. Their home is comfortable, homey, and relaxing. Shiro’s office is full of pictures of them all. Curtis jokes about their being more Voltron stuff round the house than their actual wedding, but he says it kindly. 

“I’m wedding stuff,” Shiro says with a pout that Curtis kisses away.

He likes Curtis, he does. Reluctantly. He likes how he makes Shiro smile and laugh. And in a weird, twisted way he likes what they look like together. A buried part of his conscience gets a thrill from seeing them kiss or touch, from knowing that they lay together… 

Well, that’s embarrassing.

Keith doesn’t analyze why that is but he does mention it to Tabor who, with all the charm of a bored psychology professor, suggests it’s just plain old interest in sexuality.

Maybe it is.

His calendar notifies him when he’s a month out from the meeting. He asks Pidge to outfit his smaller, one-man ship with the Trans-Reality Shield. She scolds him for not giving her a bigger heads up because she wanted to send a research drone with him to get some readings. 

“Next time,” Keith promises her.

“Is there going to _be_ a next time?”

Keith shrugs and nods at the same time. He doesn’t know why, but he’s pretty sure there will be plenty more _next times_.

“Are you going to tell Shiro about this?” Pidge asks. 

“Why would I?”

“I don’t know, because you’re meeting up with another him. Maybe he wants to ask him some questions, maybe he wants to tell him something. Oh yeah, are you going to be seeing other Pidges?”

“Probably not.”

“Rats. Tell that Shiro to ask his Pidge if she’d ever be interested in sharing coding for those satellites if they ever build them.”

“Okay.”

“Actually, I’ll record a message for her and you can just give it to Shiro,” she says, waving him off. She doesn’t trust him with the highly technical conversations. Rightly so. “Oh, I’ll send specs for the Trans-Reality Shields too, just in case.”

And then she’s off, head buried in her computer while a drone circles her. Keith assumes all of that was a drawn out “yes, I’ll install the shield on your ship.”

 

**

_The In-Between_

Shiro is early. He paces around Black cursing about it. He stops in front of a shining metal segment of wall and uses it to check his hair. He checks and double checks and triple checks the time.

He has nothing left to do but what Pidge asked of him and he’d been planning on putting that off until the end.

Until after.

His heart rate speeds up and he curses at himself. He flops back into the cockpit and pulls up Pidge’s files. 

He’d released the satellite on entry, he had a spare one just in case the deployment didn’t work. Hunk uploaded a very detailed file on what to do if the first one fails and all the reasons why it failed and how to tweak the second one accordingly. If both satellites fail, it’s back to the drawing board for Hunk and Pidge. 

Shiro just has to check the positioning, install the programming, run some diagnostics, and check on it a few times between now and leaving. 

Time ends up slipping away from him. His nerves forget to be on high alert. All the what-ifs and endless, spiraling questions about this Keith and what’s going to happen get shoved away to make room for the tedious tasks at hand.

He’s puzzling over an error code when a call comes in. 

“Keith?”

“Shiro,” Keith breathes back, sounding relieved.

Shiro’s cheeks get hot at the way his voice sounds but he won’t bring it up. “The right Keith?” he asks.

“The one you asked to meet you here a year ago, yeah,” Keith says. “You’re still orbiting?”

“I’m running some tests for my Pidge, I can land any time. I got here with some time to spare.”

“Let me find somewhere good to land, let’s try a different town this time,” Keith suggests.

“Sure. Anthropology,” he agrees, remembering Allura’s original reason for doing all of this anyway.

Keith snorts but leaves it at that.

Shiro figures out the error message and patches the issue according to Hunk’s directions while waiting for Keith to send him coordinates.

In all likelihood, Keith muted the feed while he searched. But to Shiro, it feels like oppressive, awkward silence. A total lack of anything to talk about. Shiro’s regret has yet to fully crystalize. 

He keeps reminding himself that there’s no harm in befriending people from other places, times, realities… So at the least, it’ll be a good opportunity to talk without the others nearby like last time. About what? Shiro has no fucking clue. At the most, it’ll be… meaningful. A new perspective. Comforting. Something. 

There’s a millisecond of hissing, ambient sound on the line before Keith says, “Sending coordinates now. This planet has a thing for western themes.”

Shiro smiles. “Are you from Texas too?” 

Keith scoffs. “Yeehaw.”

Shiro laughs, puts on a thick accent like Keith’s father’s and says, “Giddy up, cowboy.”

He remembers, too late, that this Keith probably doesn’t appreciate Shiro teasing him with his dead father’s accent but Keith just laughs too. 

They land next to each other in a stretch of desert not unlike the land around the Garrison. Keith is in a smaller cruiser than before, probably because he’s flying solo. But this one looks like it’s his. Dark red paint, chipped and scratched along the joints and seams. Stenciled numbers along the side below a stylized lion. 

Keith tears his gaze away from the Black Lion to follow Shiro’s back toward his craft. “It’s not much,” Keith says, jaw tight. “Gets the job done.”

“I like it,” Shiro says. 

Keith smiles a tight, closed lip smile and looks back up at Black. “Did I… I mean, did your Keith… doesn’t he fly Black?”

“Yeah, but I can too.” Shiro really doesn’t want to get into it. Not the conversation he had with Keith about it. Not the hours of pleading Black to work with him a little. Not how much it physically and mentally hurt to reconnect… “Should we find a place to eat?”

Keith nods. Shiro doesn’t find another natural thing to say so he doesn’t. They walk, Shiro frets, Keith is a brick wall. 

What a mistake. This whole thing was ridiculous. 

**

Keith can _feel_ the Black Lion. His own, if he can really lay claim to it at all, is gone. They’re all gone. He wonders why they didn’t leave in Shiro’s reality. It’s not really a question he can ask, though, is it? They can’t ask each other why something _didn’t_ happen in their worlds, only how something _did_. 

Maybe Allura would know.

“How’s this?” Shiro asks, slowing to a stop outside of a restaurant. Keith shrugs, Shiro deflates but leads them inside anyway.

He’s ruining this. He spent months waiting for this and now he’s ruining it.

He has questions that he wants answered first, though. Maybe after that things will smooth out. Or maybe he should try to be a normal, friendly person first and work up to the questions… the indecision makes him feel paralyzed. 

They sit in somewhat private booth toward the back and Keith wrings his hands under the table while Shiro looks at the menu with a puzzled expression. 

“You ever find yourself somewhere where the translations don’t actually help?” he asks. Conversational. Normal. 

Keith nods.

Fuck, he’s really fucking this up.

Shiro plods onward. “Do you know what you want?”

“I’ll eat anything, I’m not picky,” Keith says. 

“Same here, I guess we’ll try our chances then.” 

He sets the menu down and looks at Keith directly, eye to eye and close range, for the first time in a year. Keith gets caught in the stormy gray color of his irises. Shiro seems equally lost in Keith’s eyes too, but that could be and probably is Keith’s imagination. 

Keith clears his throat and looks at the drink section on the back of the menu. “Is any of this alcoholic?”

“We can ask.”

The silence between them while waiting for their food is unbearable. Keith stares into his drink—a shocking shade of pink with a weird but not bad flavor—and wills himself to disappear.

Keith had played this meeting over and over again in his head so much that he thought he’d know how it would go. He had _hopes_ for it. And now he’s not sure he can even make it through a meal.

“So,” Shiro says to break the silence. The word comes out rough, bored, irritated… “It’s been a year.”

“Yeah.”

“What’s new?”

Keith shrugs. “Not a lot. Been working. We’re at the end of Phase 2.”

“Which is?” Shiro asks.

“Identifying people in need and providing emergency healthcare and rations.”

“And Phase 3 is?”

“Setting up more permanent, on-planet resources.”

“Cool. So did your mom assign that to you or…?”

An angry heat flares up in Keith’s chest and he can’t help the facial expression he gives this Shiro. This dismissive, rude version of him… Keith hadn’t noticed that last year but maybe the novelty of finding each other had kept that trait hidden.

“Oh fuck off,” Keith says. “It’s my project, my mom recommended me for it but I developed it.”

“Do you even like doing it?” Shiro asks.

“I love it! Who are you to question—“

“You described it like a textbook, I’m just trying to get you to talk,” he sighs. 

Keith crosses his arms over his chest and glares. This is going horribly.

But Shiro glares back, unimpressed, and that somehow neutralizes his anger.

“I don’t know how to talk to you,” Keith admits.

“Just talk to me like a person, I’ll talk to you like a person too.”

“But you’re not a person, you’re…” Keith falters. “You’re Shiro, I know you. I’ve known you for ten years.”

Shiro’s glare disappears, replaced by something soft and understanding and way more familiar. “And you’re Keith. I know you, too.”

This is salvageable.

“Can we just talk like we know each other then? Correct as we need to?” Keith asks. He uncrosses his arms and wraps his hands around his drink to keep them busy.

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

“So…” Keith really shouldn’t poke at this but he thinks it might lighten the mood. “Dating Curtis yet?”

Shiro laughs a bright, clear bark of surprised laughter. Keith feels the atmosphere around them shift and relief washes over him. That’s all it took?

“God,” Shiro says, rubbing his forehead. “About that. Allura kept pushing it, thinking we’d be good together even though I begged her to leave it be, until Curtis outright told her, yeah, he’s into guys but he’s mostly into his wife. She forced the man to come out as bisexual, I’m lucky he didn’t complain about it.”

“That’s incredible,” Keith says through his grin. A world in which Shiro and Curtis aren’t married is a fine one indeed. No offense to Curtis. 

“What about you and Tabor? I’m a little surprised he isn’t here too…”

“Shut up,” Keith groans. “He’s in charge of one of the bases, I barely ever see him.”

“I thought you two were joined at the hip.”

“Hardly. But we’re friends.”

“Friends? That’s it?”

“Uh huh. I’m too short for him, he’s too purple for me.” Keith shrugs. “You know how it is.”

“Ah, yes. A classic tale of missed connections.”

“Much like you and your married lover,” Keith teases back. He sits a little taller when Shiro laughs, buoyed by the sound.

“God, this is so much better,” Shiro says, relaxing back against the booth. “How are the other Paladins where you’re from?”

Keith runs through some updates, explaining context if Shiro looks confused. He leaves out his own Shiro, knowing that’ll be a conversation of its own. The food comes as they talk, a second round of drinks appears, and everything just gets easier.

Shiro’s body language, which Keith can’t help but observe and notice and appreciate, is loose and effortlessly casual. He rests his prosthetic arm across the back of the booth as he talks. Keith finds himself leaning in.

“So, she asked Lance to marry her which, apparently, is common practice in Altea. Layer in the fact that she’s royalty and he isn’t, she’s _definitely_ supposed to be the one to propose. But you know Lance, he cares about machismo sometimes. So everyone, and I mean everyone, is warning her not to do it before maybe having Coran sit down with him and give him a heads up about how it works in Altea, and of course she ignores that… Springs a proposal on him…” Shiro trails off conspiratorially with a smirk.

“Oh God, did he lose it?” Keith urges on.

“He _wept_. We thought he was about to throw a fit, but no. He accepted, he cried, went off without a hitch.” 

Keith loves the gentle, adoring smile on Shiro’s face. He can feel his own face mirroring it even as a part of him _hurts_. “That’s amazing, give them my congratulations.”

“I will.” He studies Keith, smile dropping and concern crinkling his brow. “Is it hard to hear about this?”

Keith shrugs. “It’s hard but it’s nice.”

“You can tell me to shut up at any time,” Shiro says. 

“I don’t want to.” There’s an involuntary heat in his voice. He bites his lip. 

Shiro’s gaze is searing, analytic, longing… “Okay.”

Keith orders another round of drinks.

**

There’s a comfortable silence until after the drinks are brought. Shiro observes Keith, trying not to be too obvious about it. 

in some ways, it’s like sitting with his own Keith. The sharp tongue, the sense of humor, the straightforward way he communicates his feelings. His Keith knows his place in the world and is confident about it. His Keith has always been confident about it. This one seems very newly sure but is _extraordinarily_ sure all the same. Shiro likes that. It’s strength without arrogance. He holds himself to a standard that he doesn’t judge others by.

Shiro feels bad thinking it but… his own Keith isn’t always good at that. 

Keith clears his throat. “Why did you want to meet again?” he asks with squared shoulders and an open face.

Shiro’s mouth opens to answer but he can’t summon any words. He had just done it impulsively, he didn’t even know why at the time but he figured it out. Still, he was supposed to have come up with an excuse by now. He’s trying to think on his feet and come up with something good, but Keith’s violet eyes and steady presence remind him how it felt a year before when he admitted that he loved his own Keith…

“I wanted to see you again,” he finally says. He’s definitely blushing but he holds Keith’s gaze. 

“Oh.”

“Why’d you show up?” Shiro asks. He feels bare and exposed and vulnerable, he wants some assurance here. He’s doing his best to look like he isn’t having a meltdown…

“I wanted to see you again too,” Keith says, voice even. He doesn’t even blush about it.

Shiro nods. Keith nods. 

Keith is the first to break. He smiles and looks down at the table and laughs an awkward, endearing laugh. Shiro lets out a breath and laughs too. 

“How am I doing?” Keith asks, lifting his eyes only to ask before looking back down at the napkin he’s folding into a complicated bit of origami.

They’re finally getting around to it, then. Shiro feels a thrill of nerves and he isn’t sure why.

“You’re deliriously happy with your alien husband,” Shiro tells him. “Even still.”

“It’s been about two years, right?”

Shiro nods. “No little ones running around yet though. I think the two of you are too busy for that.”

“Do we ever fight?” Keith asks. “I can’t imagine a world where Tabor and I don’t fight.”

“Even if you do, you wouldn’t ever talk to me about it.”

Keith frowns. “Is it like that there too, then?”

“Like what?”

Keith heaves a sigh. “I can’t… I can barely have a conversation with you anymore. I don’t like talking to you about Curtis and I don’t like explaining what I’m doing and I don’t like that you suggest setting me up with Curtis’s friends when I’m on Earth. I can’t stand that you don’t just… notice that I’m upset with you.” The last sentence is almost a whisper. Keith tugs at some flaps on the napkin and opens the folds with his thumbs. Shiro watches closely.

“Why are you upset with me?” Shiro asks.

He has a feeling. It’s the same feeling Shiro had when he talked to him a year ago. This Keith loves his Shiro just like Shiro loves his Keith. 

“Because…” (Shiro’s so sure he’s going to say it.) “You think everyone wants the same thing as you, to be married and have kids and settle down. You never accept the idea that anyone could want anything else but that.”

“Huh?” Shiro says before he can stop himself. 

“You just don’t understand me and you don’t bother to try,” he says, sounding petulant. 

Shiro’s disappointed, but he doesn’t let it show. He doesn’t know his counterpart. All he has to work with is what Keith has said. But even then, it doesn’t seem right.

“He just wants you to be happy,” Shiro says softly. 

He’s expecting a fight, but Keith droops. “Maybe so.” He holds his hand out, a paper napkin crane tottered over to one wing in his palm. Shiro takes it. “I don’t like not getting along with you.”

“I don’t like it either.”

“So let’s not fight here, with each other,” Keith says. 

Shiro wants to kiss him.

“Agreed.”

Shiro wants to kiss _this_ Keith and he doesn’t want to think about what that means.

“So let’s talk about something else,” Keith suggests.

**

They talk. They talk for a long time. Comparing notes between their lives, drinking, asking bare questions, drinking.

Where did the Lions go?

Why didn’t the Lions leave?

How did your dad die?

What is he like there?

Are you happy?

Are you happy?

Are you seeing anyone?

Are _you_ seeing anyone?

And with that round of answers, Shiro excuses himself to the bathroom, splashes water on his face, and heads back to the booth. Instead of sitting on his own side, he sits on Keith’s side and slides close with his body tilted toward him and his arm across the back of the seat behind him. Keith’s hair brushes the bare inside of his arm, Shiro shivers. Keith looks at him, fire in his eyes, and doesn’t back down or move away. He’s warm and solid against Shiro.

He didn’t come here for this, he swears. 

Shiro lifts his hand to Keith’s chin. Keith lets him. He runs his thumb along his bottom lip and kisses him before he can reason his way out of it.

**

Keith hasn’t kissed anyone since an awkward spin the bottle game back in his first year at the Garrison. He’d been trying to fit in and failing miserably. The girl told everyone he was a good kisser though and for some reason, Keith chose to internalize that. He chose to believe that he could do it if called upon.

And he can.

Shiro kisses him. Soft-lipped and charged. Keith kisses back almost immediately after barely a millisecond of shock. It’s like he knew this would happen. It’s like he wanted it.

He did want it.

His head is woozy with the drinks and with this. There’s a warmth engulfing his whole body. He leans against Shiro, pushing his mouth closer, letting Shiro’s mouth guide him to opening his own. He feels Shiro’s tongue against his and he sees stars. He thinks of that kiss he saw between his Shiro and Curtis, the hint of tongue that made his heart drop to his stomach. He’s on the other side of that now. He knows what it feels like to have Shiro’s tongue in his mouth and it is… good. 

Great.

Keith moans against Shiro’s mouth. 

Shiro is a great kisser.

Keith is holding his own.

“Let’s go somewhere,” Shiro whispers, voice husky. 

Keith nods.

**

There’s a motel a couple storefronts down and it only has one room left. The person at the reception desk gives the two of them a knowing look that Shiro, rather than being embarrassed by, takes pride in. Keith’s hand is shaking in his, Shiro squeezes it. Keith moves closer, his cheek resting against Shiro’s shoulder. 

There are warning bells going off in his head. Part of him is telling him to clear his head and really think before doing this. But the prevailing message his whole body is sending, along with the most present part of his thoughts, wants this more than anything.

They get to their room, lock the door, and stare at each other. 

Keith looks nervous. 

Maybe he’s thinking the same things. Maybe Shiro should pump his breaks. 

“Is this okay?” he asks softly, not even reaching out to touch him. If Keith’s not okay with this, that’s it. They won’t. They’ll drink water and sober up and talk and maybe Shiro will sleep on the floor so Keith can sleep in the bed and they’ll wake up in the morning and pretend the pre-amble never even happened so they can be on their way.

That’d be fine. Probably better in the long run.

But Keith nods and uncertainly reaches a hand out toward Shiro. Shiro breathes a sigh of relief and takes it and pulls Keith to him. Keith tilts his head up and uses his free hand to pull Shiro into a kiss. Sweet, warm. Keith’s lips are perfect for kissing. 

This Keith, he tells himself, is perfect for kissing. Here and now. 

Here, there is no Tabor and no Curtis. No wedding rings, no vows to break. 

Shiro moves with Keith until the edge of the bed hits the back of his knees. He slips his hand under Keith’s shirt and touches his lower back. Keith whimpers against his mouth and Shiro pulls them both down to the mattress.

It’s okay, it’s okay, he tells the warning bells. It’s okay, he tells his own shaking hands.

“Is this okay?” Keith asks, parroting Shiro’s earlier question. 

Shiro nods. It is. This Keith and his long, silken hair. This Keith and his complicated moods. This Keith is different. The warning bells go silent. This is not his best friend, this is not Tabor’s husband.

Keith seems to steel himself. He reaches for the button on Shiro’s pants, eyes searing into his. 

Shiro knows this man regardless. 

But he doesn’t know every inch of him, just like he doesn’t know every inch of his own. He’s never seen him naked, he’s never seen him turned on and desperate for touch, he’s never kissed him. That’s something wholly unique to this one. This is the one he gets to learn.

And that feels… special. Incredible. Right.

He undresses Keith, replacing fabric with his own breath and touch and kisses as he goes. He savors the salty taste of his skin, the way his neck smells, the way his hair feels, the angular cut of his hips, the toned musculature beneath this skin. His skin is milky and clear, cross-hatched with scars here and there. He touches all of them. He knows how some of them happened. He wants the stories behind the ones he doesn’t know.

Keith’s body fits against his in a way he always knew it would. Keith’s hands, undressing him and exploring him too, feel right on his skin. Keith is a little shyer than Shiro was. He keeps his hands on Shiro’s ribs or waist and his mouth on his collarbone and above. When Shiro kisses the inside of his knee and spreads his legs, Keith blushes and turns his head away but his body stays relaxed and willing.

“Is this okay?” Shiro asks, hovering between his knees and over his body.

Keith nods, head still turned away.

“Look at me,” Shiro says softly. “Are you sure?”

Keith looks at him, glowing pink with blown pupils. “Yes,” he says, hand coming up to Shiro’s cheek. 

**

It only hurts a little. Shiro is careful and thorough and good at this. Keith is unbelievably turned on and _ready_ . Mentally, emotionally, physically ready in a way he never thought he would be. 

It’s the weirdest, best feeling he’s ever felt in his life. Pure, direct pleasure for pleasure’s sake. Feeling lost in another person’s body, being responsible for and complicit in the breathy sounds and groans Shiro’s making. 

They don’t exactly talk. Shiro kisses his neck and whispers things into his skin. Keith makes small requests that Shiro obeys immediately. _Slower, easier, kiss me, one second…_

He gets the point of this now, he really does. If he could do this every day…

And then it’s over. Keith has no idea how long it went, but it felt like forever. Keith shudders through a release with Shiro’s hand wrapped tightly around him. Shiro kisses Keith hard through his own orgasm. Keith feels empty when Shiro pulls out but warm with Shiro’s whole body wrapped around him. 

He’s had sex.

He gets it.

He holds Shiro’s hand, he kisses him, he strokes his hair away from his forehead. They’re a sweaty mess but that doesn’t matter. Keith falls asleep in his arms.

**

Shiro wakes up to the sound of the shower running and pale pink light filtering in through the curtains. 

He’s warm and at ease until he remembers the night before. Panic gets a grip on Shiro’s lungs for a second, but Keith appears and is smiling and wrapped in a towel and Shiro can breathe. He doesn’t look like he regrets it… Shiro doesn’t regret it… 

“You’re up,” Keith says. “It’s early.”

“Going somewhere?” Shiro asks. He sits up and arranges the sheets over him for modesty. He has a headache. 

“Felt sticky,” he says. He blushes and laughs a little. God he’s cute. 

His wet hair sends thin trickles of water down his shoulders and chest. Shiro wants to lap it up. He blushes too, shifting the blanket over him for some extra security.

“Was last night okay?” Shiro asks.

Keith nods. “Definitely.”

“It wasn’t weird?”

“Did you think it was?”

“No.”

“Me neither.” Keith steps closer to the bed, eyes on the floor and searching. 

Shiro looks around too at all their scattered clothes and laughs. He pulls a pair of underwear off the lampshade and hands it to him. Keith murmurs a thanks and shakes his head with a smile. 

All he does is slip into them and hang his towel up before sitting back on the bed with Shiro. Shiro leans forward and kisses him. He can’t get over kissing him. When Keith lets him, he pulls him back down and wraps his arms around him. 

“Mm, I miss this arm,” Keith says, patting Shiro’s prosthetic. “You have a hover arm sort of thing where I’m from.”

“That sounds cool.”

“It is, but. I’d rather be held with this.”

Shiro smiles into his shoulder and kisses it, letting his eyes slip closed.

“I’d never had sex before, by the way,” Keith says. 

Shiro’s eyes spring open. “You should have said!”

“Why?”

He says it with such innocent, lack of care that Shiro can’t help but hide his face against his back and laugh.

“C’mon, why would it matter?” Keith asks again, rolling to face him. 

“Your first time should be… I don’t know, at least known by the other party so they can make it good.”

“You made it good,” Keith assures him. “It was very special,” he says in a teasing, dry way. 

“Why hadn’t you had sex before?” Shiro asks, incredulous. Looking like that, knowing his own Keith, it doesn’t add up.

“Never wanted to. Why, am I a slut in your reality?”

“You’re a married slut now.” Keith smiles and Shiro’s heart thuds. “No, not a slut, I’d never call anyone a slut. But you’d definitely slept around a little.”

“Well, I would have if I ever liked anyone.”

“I don’t know that my Keith really liked anyone much but people always liked him.”

Keith shrugs as best as he can laying on his side. “Never was a big deal to me, I guess.”

“Fair enough.”

“Last night was good though, I see the point.”

“Thanks,” Shiro deadpans.

Keith grins and touches Shiro’s lips with his fingertips. “Can we meet again?” he asks.

Shiro kisses his fingers and nods. Keith replaces his fingers with his lips.

**

They walk back together. Shiro half wants to hold his hand, half wants to play nonchalant. In the end, he does neither. They walk side by side in easy silence. 

“Never had a walk of shame before,” Keith tells him happily.

“Are you ashamed?” Shiro teases.

Keith shakes his head. He looks up at Black as they approach, looking wistful but happy. “Pidge wants me to give your Pidge a message, she recorded a message. I’ll send it to you.”

“Sounds good.”

“Don’t forget to congratulate Allura and Lance for me.”

“I won’t.”

“And tell Hunk I say hi.”

“I will.”

“Okay.” 

“Tell your people I say hi too.”

“I will. Tell your Keith he’s an idiot.” His smile is sharp. Shiro’s heart swells.

“How’s he an idiot?” Shiro asks, playing along.

“He could have had you and he chose Tabor.” 

He’s touched. He barely even laughs at it. He grabs Keith’s hand and squeezes it. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Should we check out a new planet next time?”

Shiro nods. “A year from now?”

“Sooner,” Keith corrects.

“Remember how we started this trip? Awkward and fighting?”

“Remember how we agreed not to fight?” Keith counters.

Shiro nods. “Sooner,” he agrees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had never written these two being sexy and man is it fun??? 
> 
> Thanks for reading, VLD fans <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was so much easier to churn out content when I had a week and a half off from work RIP!!

_Core Reality_

Keith can hear them talking around him. It’s casual, friendly, full of jabs and laughter. He’s only half focused on the radar and other readings, ready to give it his entire attention as needed. 

He likes flying.

He’s always liked flying.

But today he likes flying because he can think and the others won’t bug him to participate.

He switches off autopilot to steer around some space junk, he diverts some power from the back right thruster, he runs a diagnostic on the flight system, and he thinks of Shiro.

The other Shiro.

He thinks of his skin and the angry scars that cross it. He thinks of his silver-white hair as it falls into his gray eyes. He thinks of Shiro’s hands on the back of his thighs and his hips between his legs and… he turns autopilot back on. 

An alert tells him they’ll be at the central hub, technically Keith’s home now, in another few vargas. He’s excited to see Kosmo, it’s been awhile. He’s excited to be in one, stationary place for more than a day or two. He’s excited to see Shiro again… 

“Hello, boss man are you with us?” Ezor taunts, waving a hand in front of his face. She stops it under his nose and with faux concern asks, “Are you still breathing?”

He sits up with a jolt, knocks her hand away, and glares at her. “I’m flying here.”

“You’ve been distracted _all day_ , talk to us.”

“Nothing to talk about,” Keith says, though his cheeks heat up a little. If she knew what he’d been thinking about, she’d eat it up.

“What’s on your mind then?” she presses. 

Shiro.

He just leans his head back against the headrest and yawns. “A hot shower.”

“Oh, Acxa, there’s something for you to think about,” she taunts. 

Keith rolls his eyes. 

“I’ll take the shower and leave the scrawny human, thanks,” she says.

Keith laughs. Ezor looks at him suspiciously. 

“Has he found a sense of humor, you think?” she stage whispers to Zethrid. 

He waves her off. She’s content to go back to her own conversation. 

Keith didn’t think he felt any different after having sex, at least not immediately. Not flying back to the base alone afterward, kept company by the lasting mental image of Shiro and the ghost-like impression of his warmth and aura and the sound of his voice… Not while getting caught up on his work but still thinking of the next time he’ll see him a few months from then. Not when people asked him how the meeting had gone and all he said was, “It was good to talk to him.”

But, truth be told, he does feel different. He’s been let in on the great not-so-secret secret of the universe. He doesn’t think being thought of naked in a shower is at all embarrassing or gross or interesting. He doesn’t care if Ezor calls him a prude. He doesn’t mind when Zethrid makes crass allusions to what her and Ezor get up to in their bunk.

He supposes it’s because he knows what the big deal is now. Part of him sorta wants to talk about it all the time too. But he doesn’t. He can’t. 

How would he explain it without the instant judgment and the concerned talkings to it would inspire?

What would he even really say? 

He wishes he could talk to that Shiro about it then. He’s the only person in any reality who understands. 

He lets out an involuntary sigh and Acxa looks at him. 

“Everything okay?” she asks.

“Everything’s great,” he says, and he means it.

She gives him a small smile and a lifted eyebrow. “Great, huh? What’s so great?”

“That hot shower waiting for me. Oh, and my bed on base. Can’t wait.” An alert pops up to let him know gravitational pull is going to upset his flightpath. He switches autopilot back off and prepares to bank to one side to compensate. “And the food is way better too. Hunk said he was sending a care package of snacks soon, I hope that’s there.”

“Sure,” she says but she doesn’t press.

Keith loves flying against gravity, the swoop in his stomach from the opposing forces at work on his body and on his ship. The only thing like it is falling into bed with a man. 

**

_Another Reality_

A peace summit followed by various celebratory events spread out over a few weeks has Shiro preparing to be grounded on Daibazaal for a month. Keith offers him a room at their place. He has a pleading look on his face like he’s desperate and ready to pull the best friend card if need be. But there’s no need for any of that, Shiro agrees to it easily. Keith looks surprised and relieved. 

“The others will be staying with us too, it’ll be fun. Like old times,” he says hopefully.

Shiro feels a twinge of guilt. “Yeah, that sounds great,” Shiro says softly. 

He’s been a bad friend to Keith. He’s been jealous and cowardly and shitty. He owes him. 

“Listen,” Shiro says. “I have to go soon, I have a lot to do to get ready for being off duty for a month—“ Keith’s face falls in a too-familiar way. “— _But_ , I just wanted to say I know I’ve been distant and weird lately and I’m sorry.” 

“Oh!” Keith exclaims, clearly caught off guard. “No, it’s fine, I get it. It’s been hard…”

“I miss you, I’m going to be better about it.”

Keith smiles a lopsided, authentic smile. “Shiro,” he says fondly. “I like the sound of that. I can’t wait for you to stay with us.”

“I can’t wait either.” Shiro means it too. “But I really have to go.”

“Okay, see you soon.”

It feels so good not arguing with him. 

Shiro had tested the waters on this when he first got back from seeing the other Keith. He’d called his Keith to thank him for lending him Black. He’d looked him in the eye and told him some partial truths about the trip (the food, the talking, the drinks, none of the kissing or the sex or the soft morning after). 

He’d wanted to see how he felt. He’d wondered if the heartsickness would still be there. He’d feared that the impulse to run and hide would still compel him. 

But he'd had hope. Hope that came from the smile he couldn’t help every time he thought of his other Keith. 

And it did feel different to talk to his own Keith. Easier, maybe. 

The month on Daibazaal will be fun, Shiro’s sure of it. 

The following week is all about wrapping things up, delegating duties, writing up complex game plans for Atlas and her crew, and deep cleaning his onboard quarters for his substitute.

He doesn’t keep anything precious onboard. He doesn’t have too many precious things to start with. Usually that doesn’t bother him, but it strikes him hard when he finds the somewhat crushed napkin crane Keith had handed him in a jacket pocket.

This is an item with meaning. This and the game token he keeps in his pants pocket. Both of them things Keith had uncertainly put in his hand from the two times they’d met.

He sits on the edge of his bed and carefully presses the wrinkles out with his thumbs and squeezes the folds. It doesn’t quite perk up to its original crispness, but it looks better. He opens a drawer and carefully sets it inside.

Shiro spent more time than he’d ever admit to anyone trying to feel like he belonged in his own life. In his own body. He’d lost everything he owned before Kerberos. If any of it survived, it’d never made its way back to him during the chaos of war or the rebuilding of Earth. He assumed it didn’t exist. The pictures of his parents, his clothes, the box of baseball cards, the Japanese readers he grew up with that he’d kept for any future kids… He’d wanted kids once. He’d planned for a future once. 

If he could just feel solid in his own body, maybe he would again. 

But having precious items… having mementos and tokens… having something he can hold and think of someone… It catches him off-guard how much that _means_.

It’s not lost on him that the person attached to the meaningful things is Keith, that Keith. The thought of him in general settles into Shiro’s bones. He wonders how he is. He wishes he could talk to him. 

When he gets to Daibazaal, he’s fine — token in pocket, Keith on his mind, and feeling a little more at home than usual. 

His Keith grins as he strides forward. He takes Shiro’s bag and hands it to Tabor so he can hug him with all his strength. It doesn’t feel like touching someone he’s in love with, it just feels like Keith and Shiro is _relieved_.

**

_Core Reality_

Keith is towing a lot of extra weight between Pidge and Hunk’s satellites, the companions to the ones from the other Pidge and other Hunk, and Pidge’s fleet of research drones. He has gigantic files of directions and programming to run and he’d be exhausted just thinking about it if he wasn’t so… so goddamn excited.

He’d been thinking of Shiro for months. He’d been missing him. He’d been wondering how he was. He’d be thinking of him in the shower, in his bunk… He wanted to see him more than he’d ever wanted anything. And now he was about to.

But there was always that nagging fear that maybe something had happened to him. Maybe he wouldn’t show. Maybe he was sick of this already. 

Right before he crosses into the rift, he pauses to call Pidge.

“What, did you fuck it up already?” she asks. 

“Fuck what up? No, all your nerdy science shit is fine.”

“Good, what’s up?”

“What are the chances you could develop a way for us to communicate with other realities?”

“Establishing communication of any kind is the first step in my continued research, so that’s what I’m working on.”

“I mean more… like calls between people in different realities? Chat logs maybe…”

She gives him a long, scrutinizing look and then softens. “Let me guess,” she says. She spins her chair so the back of her messy head is facing him while she roots through a pile on her desk. “This whole rift jumping thing is less about… where the hell is it?” She breaks off into mumbling and then “Aha!”s before turning back around. “Anyway, it’s less about research and more about the person you’re meeting up with.” She holds her tablet up and there’s the picture of all of them from the first time they met. The other Pidge, Hunk, Lance, the surviving Allura… and Shiro and Keith standing next to each other, both a little stiff and awkward. 

“Well,” Keith attempts to start. 

Well.

“You like him?” Pidge asks, soft.

He shrugs, eyes sliding away from her.

“I’ll work on it,” she says after a second of thoughtful silence. “Might just be a really old school text chat to start, if this round of updates to other Pidge’s satellite does what I hope it will.”

“That means a lot, Pidge.”

“I just want to further our understanding of the universe,” she says dismissively. But then she loses her fight against a small laugh and a smile. “And I want you to be happy.”

Keith blushes furiously. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“That you’re capable of happiness or that you like some guy in another reality?”

“Some guy!” Keith exclaims, incredulous. 

“Well, he’s not _our_ Shiro, I don’t know this guy at all. SO yeah, some guy.”

“Fine. But yeah, the guy thing, don’t… it’s weird, right?”

She shrugs. “You better get going, that patch I sent needs awhile to instal. Don’t forget to send that file to Shiro for other Pidge.”

He salutes her and she cuts the feed. 

With a deep breath and a thrill of excitement shadowing any doubt, Keith sets straight for the rift and goes.

**

_The In-Between_

Keith is running late. Shiro’s brain is spinning through every possibility. He’s hurt, he’s dead, he’s been caught in enemy cross-fire, his Trans-Reality Shields failed, he’s met someone and doesn’t want to come anymore…

And then Keith’s ship appears on Shiro’s radar and he breathes a sigh of relief. 

“Shiro,” Keith says, a smile in his voice.

“Keith,” Shiro says back, soft and prayer-like.

“I have to deploy some drones for Pidge, pick a planet?”

“She’s put you to work too, huh?” Shiro says. He relaxes back against his seat and pulls up a map. 

“Of course. Pursuit of knowledge and all. I missed you.” The last part is so intentionally effortless sounding that Shiro knows he was nervous about saying it. 

Shiro grins. “I missed you too. I was worried you might not show up.”

“If I showed up after a year, why wouldn’t I show up after a few months?” Keith asks simply.

“Ah, because it’d hurt my feelings and that’s the way my anxiety works.”

Keith laughs. “I was afraid you wouldn’t show up too.”

Shiro picks a planet and sends Keith the coordinates. He runs the tests Pidge asked him to and waits patiently.

It takes about half an hour, a time filled with idle talk and companionable silence, for Keith to give Shiro the go-ahead. 

They land on a snowy planet this time. (“No western theme,” Shiro assured Keith.) Shiro sorta figures it’ll be a good excuse to sit, stand, and lay close to each other. Keith gives him a knowing look when he disembarks from his craft and walks to meet him. 

“Can I hug you?” Shiro asks, feeling the vestigial awkwardness from their first solo meeting.

Keith smiles shyly. “Of course.”

Shiro holds him firmly enough to feel the solid bulk of his body beneath the thick, downy coat he’d thrown on. Keith hugs him back just as tightly. It’s Keith who pulls away first, but it’s just to get the right angle to kiss him. 

Fuck.

It’s innocent, mostly. Shiro’s eyes close, he kisses him back. It’s warm and soft and his lips remember and rejoice at the feeling immediately. He loves kissing him, he loves it… 

“I missed you,” Keith repeats, soft air against Shiro’s lips.

“Missed you too,” Shiro breathes, eyes still closed from the kiss. 

“I like your ship,” Keith says.

Shiro laughs. “Of course you do, pilot.”

“It’s a nice craft. I thought you’d be in Black again.”

Shiro shakes his head. “I prefer my own ship.”

Keith nods in understanding. “Where to?”

Shiro finds them the equivalent of a ski lodge in the wide, very cold expanse of nothing he’s landed them in the middle. If Keith has any complaints, he keeps them to himself. Shiro has plenty of complaints he’s keeping to himself too, in any case.

“Any vacancy?” Shiro asks at the front desk.   
They shake their head. “Afraid not, this is peak of the season for us. But you’re free to dine in.”

Keith stifles a laugh against his shoulder. Shiro frowns around at the bustling lodge. There are people of all sorts, from all over the universe here with various pieces unrecognizable snow gear. 

“C’mon,” Keith says, taking Shiro’s hand in his and pulling him after him. “Let’s get a table and something hot to drink.”

“Of course I found a resort planet,” Shiro mumbles, looking at a map. Wide stretches of snowy mountain ranges and snowy flatlands lay between here and another at capacity lodge and then another at capacity lodge beyond that. 

“We don’t need a room,” Keith tells him, dropping his hand to sit at a small wooden table shoved back into a corner. 

Shiro’s heart sinks.

“I have a room on my ship, don’t you?”

“Oh, yeah.”

Shiro’s heart rises a tad.

“I’m sure we can make it work,” Keith says suggestively. 

Shiro’s heart soars.

His grin must give him away because Keith gently nudges his foot under the table as he hides a smile behind a menu. 

With mugs of something close to coffee on the table and food on the way, they catch up. 

Shiro tells Keith all about his month on Daibazaal, how the peace summit and the celebrations went, how nice it was to be under the same roof as the rest of the Voltron team. Keith asks about Lance and Allura’s wedding plans, he asks how Keith and Tabor are, and then…

“How was it spending time with Keith, really?” he asks. “Was it weird?”

“No. No, it was really nice. It felt like we had each other back, you know? Friends.”

“Really?” he asks, popping a fry into his mouth. 

“Really. I don’t know what it was, it just felt different.”

He could analyze it, he won’t. He won’t spook this Keith off with any lofty thoughts. Maybe it really was just that he was allowing himself to move on and see other options anyway. 

Keith doesn’t push it anyway. Shiro asks him about how things are going in his reality and he delights in listening to him talk. He skirts around his own Shiro a little, apparently not having really spoken to him too much recently. He says it’s because he’s been in deep space and busy. But he also admits he’s still not entirely sure how to talk to him, the same issues as before still persisting. 

“It’ll work out,” he concludes though. “I just need to talk to him, maybe. Be honest with him that I don’t want the same things he does and that I get that he wants me happy but I’m finding my own happiness.” He props his chin on his fist and looks out a window thoughtfully, a wrinkle at his brow. 

Shiro still thinks it’s more than that. Shiro wishes Keith’s update was more like his, selfishly. More like “now that we’re having sex and I feel something for you, I don’t feel weird about my own Shiro.” But he knows that’s not fair. He knows Keith has to work things out at his own pace. He trusts that he will.

Because even with that hang-up Shiro still feels like Keith, this here and now Keith, is his. In some way.

The sun starts to set outside, sparkling orange and red on the snow. Keith pays their bill and stands holding a hand out to Shiro. 

“We should probably get back before it’s dark,” he says. 

Shiro can’t even put words to how at ease he feels. He takes Keith’s hand and lets himself be led. 

They hold hands the whole way back, Shiro so purposefully not drawing attention to it just in case Keith doesn’t realize he’s doing it. But Keith squeezes Shiro hand when Shiro laughs long and hard at something Keith says. And he pulls Shiro closer when he’s about to step onto a patch of ice. 

“Your place or mine?” Keith asks, standing between their snow-frosted ships.

“Do you have condoms?”

“Oh. No,” he grumbles, looking down and away, probably hiding a blush Shiro can’t even see in the blueish light of dusk.

“Mine, then,” Shiro says, tugging him close and kissing his cold forehead. 

Inside, they fall into a rhythm. They talk and flirt and touch and kiss. Their hands find their way. Their lips and their skin keep meeting and meeting. Shiro’s hands tangle in Keith’s long hair, Keith’s teeth press into Shiro’s neck. Shiro’s bed is too small for two grown men, but they don’t notice. They’re fused and total. 

Faintly, Shiro acknowledges this isn’t a hook-up and neither was the time before. He’s never felt worshiped by a hook-up. He’s never wanted to tear two realities apart and sew them together for a hook-up.

When one thing ends, another begins. They catch their breath and it’s a new experience, a new moment, another thing to think of when Shiro holds a napkin crane in his palm or runs his thumb over a game token in his pocket. 

They have so much living to make up for, so much time to squeeze into just a day. 

He doesn’t even want to sleep but when Keith eventually falls asleep, Shiro can’t help but match his breath and join him.

**

Keith wakes up to Shiro’s alarm clock. Shiro curses and grumbles and pulls up the interface to turn it off. He rubs a hand through the adorable disaster of his hair as he sits and reads his task list. Keith keeps his eyes just open enough to watch him.

“Got some tests to run,” Shiro says softly. He bends to kiss the side of Keith’s head and stands.

Keith rolls over and snuggles further into Shiro’s vacated warm spot. The look Shiro gives him in response is… a lot. Keith doesn’t know how to interpret it.

Eventually, Keith gets up to stretch his legs. He stands next to Shiro’s bed and checks in with himself. He’s never felt so tired and rested at the exact same time. There’s a weird peace cushioning everything.

There’s barely any room for one person in the room, just a purely utilitarian place for the one crew member to sleep in. But rather than feeling crowded and airless, it feels warm. He looks at the small, built in dresser near the foot of Shiro’s bed. There are coins strewn across the top alongside a tin of mints and the open box of condoms. Keith runs his fingers over the drawers before getting the courage to open them. He wants to soak in the minutiae of Shiro’s life, the little details he’d see if they saw each other all the time but as it stands he has to steal glimpses of.

He opens the top drawer, looks at the jumble of socks and underwear with a little involuntary smile twisting his lips. He closes it quickly and opens the next one. In stark contrast to the disaster of his underwear drawer, this one is full of crisply folded white undershirts and ribbed cotton tank tops. He casts a look toward the door and listens closely for a second to see if Shiro’s headed back before picking the top shirt up.

He’s embarrassed. He doesn’t understand the impulse. He unfolds the shirt and looks at it, imagining how Shiro’s body fills it out. He holds the collar up to his nose and breathes in the fresh laundry scent of it. 

The breath hollows him out and breaks his heart. Tears prickle his eyes and he has no idea why, not really. Or at least he doesn’t want to know why. This smell is so uniquely this Shiro. He couldn’t point out his own Shiro’s laundry detergent, he doesn’t recall any cologne or distinct soap smell. The smell he associates with his own Shiro is sweat and blood and ozone and the strange atmospheres of other planets. It’s an extinct smell. It’s irrelevant. It’s trauma and nightmares.

And this is just soft. This slots in his mind right next to the smell of his clean, warm skin and his shampoo. 

A tear streaks down his cheek and he buries his face in the fabric to wipe it away. He hasn’t cried in ages. But he has teared up, or felt his eyes prickle, or been afraid that he’d cry more lately than ever before. Hunk had softly suggested it meant an emotional storm was coming, but Keith told him he had nothing to cry about. 

He breathes deep and gets it under control and takes the shirt away from his face. He calls upon the old militaristic Garrison way of folding to put the shirt away, but Shiro softly steps into the room and his hands fumble.

“Hey, sorry,” Keith says awkwardly.

He doesn’t say anything. He assesses Keith with a straight face and steps close to him. One hand closes around the curve of Keith’s naked waist to pull him close. Keith’s heart breaks again and again and again. 

“You can take it,” Shiro says softly. “If I can keep something of yours.”

Keith feels tremulous and weak so he just nods, tightening his fists around the shirt and closing his eyes.

Shiro murmurs something comforting in his ear and kisses the side of his head before gently maneuvering both of them to sit on the edge of the bed. 

“You make me feel so…” Keith starts, struggling to find a word that will be accurate without being insulting to either of them. All he can think of is: “Soft.”

“Heh,” Shiro breathes. “I’m glad.”

Keith is surprised by the response. “Why?”

Shiro shrugs, Keith feels the motion against his own shoulder. “You seemed like you had a really hard shell when I first met you.”

Keith does have a hard shell, he wants to tell him. He takes ages to thaw and even longer to warm up. He doesn’t let others in because when he does they go marry other people and forget about him. God, there are those tears again. Keith presses his fists against his eyes and breathes. 

“Hey,” Shiro whispers, shifting to face him better. He kisses Keith’s shoulder and wraps his arms around him. 

The moment passes, just barely, and Keith drops his hands onto Shiro’s arms. He laughs in exasperation at himself and moves on. He’s done, he’s fine. He presses his lips to Shiro’s and pulls him to lay down next to him.

“How’d the diagnostics go?”

“Fine, boring,” Shiro says dismissively. He places a hot, wet kiss against Keith’s neck. Keith feels a coil inside him unfurl. 

Shiro’s body heat, his breath, his strong grip on him… It catches Keith off-guard how much he feels.

Being held… 

Keith feels the words forming, he hears the emergency bells, but he lets them come out anyway. “I’ve never been held like this before you.”

Shiro takes that in without judgment or comment, letting the statement linger. “You deserve to be held,” Shiro says finally. He tightens his arms around him for emphasis. 

“This is what makes me soft,” he reasons.

“It’s a good thing to be soft because of.”

Keith tries to joke it away. “You’re making me weak.”

“Soft isn’t weak, I don’t feel weak.”

“Do you feel soft around me too?” Keith attempts to tease, but he really does want to know.

“Yes,” he breathes. 

Keith wants to be closer to him. Closer than even now. He pushes until Shiro’s on his back and he climbs on top of him and kisses him. He moves against him and thinks about how he learned these things with this person. This Shiro. Shiro’s hands grip his hips and push his underwear down and Shiro’s heart is hammering in his chest, Keith can feel it echoing in his own. He wants to be _closer_.

“Hm, that’s not so soft,” Keith teases, bearing his naked body down against Shiro’s. 

Shiro laughs, bright and lively. “You also make me feel hard, coincidentally.”

When Keith laughs, it feels like light expanding in his chest. 

After, Keith is settled and sleepy. Shiro pulls the blankets back over them and cuddles close. He presses his forehead and the bridge of his nose against the side of Keith’s face and they lay like that. Keith never wants to leave.

“Did you and your Keith crash-land on a weird planet and almost get eaten by a huge lizard?” Keith asks. He doesn’t know why it came to mind, he just wants to talk about it.

Shiro laughs. “Yeah. Aliens loved kicking my ass.”

“Trust me, I know.”

“Yeah, I kept you busy, right? My Keith was always like a babysitter.”

“I wouldn’t say I babysat you.”

“Mine definitely did. Always teasing about it too. I owe him my life, he can tease all he wants.”

Keith would never tease Shiro, his or this one, for that. Every time Keith saved Shiro’s life, Keith committed an almost holy act. It felt like penance sometimes. It felt like martyrdom other times. But it was always heavy. He’d never make fun of him for it. 

Keith wonders what happened to them. He wonders if that Keith held Shiro’s life in his hands and knew what it meant. 

“Did you have to fight Sendak? Near the end?” Keith asks. He idly traces the seam between Shiro’s upperarm and the prosthetic.

“Yeah.”

“Did you kill him?”

“Yeah,” Shiro says, voice going dim.

“I killed him…” Keith admits. He hates counting his kills, he hates claiming them. 

“Keith was in the middle of his own fight.”

“Yeah, so was I.”

Shiro’s silence has weight and meaning. Keith turns his head toward him a little but not enough to push his face away. 

“He must be really thankful for you,” Shiro says. 

Keith shrugs. “I guess he is.”

“He has to be.”

“I don’t know how he feels about me, we’ve been weird since… the end of the war, I guess.”

“I know he loves you,” Shiro says. He means it innocently. “I don’t think it’s possible for a Takashi Shirogane to know and not love a Keith Kogane.”

That.

That’s what breaks him.

“He doesn’t,” Keith says, eyes swimming and heart clenching and blood rushing in his ears.

“He does,” Shiro assures him, gentle. 

“He doesn’t,” Keith repeats, voice tight through clenched teeth.

Shiro lifts his head to look down at him, concerned.

He hasn’t cried, really cried, since Allura died. And before that, not since Shiro’s Kerberos mission failure. And before that, not since his father died.

It feels like a storm in his lungs. 

It feels like he’s falling apart.

This Shiro, the here and now Shiro, reacts immediately by sitting up and taking him into his arms but Keith is barely aware of the movement. Everything is aching and tearing into pieces. He curls in on himself on a painful exhale and sobs. 

“I’ve got you,” Shiro whispers from the other side of a brick wall. “It’s okay. Let it out.”

He can’t. He doesn’t want to. It scratches and growls at the door and Keith will not unlock it.

He can barely breathe, his vision is shot, his eyes throb in his head. Why the fuck is he crying? What the hell is there to cry about?

And all he can think of is Shiro, the there and gone Shiro, walking down the aisle away from him with Curtis at his side. He remembers the emptiness of that day, the bleak and total _aloneness_. 

“Why didn’t he choose me?” 

“I don’t know,” the here and now Shiro says. 

Keith hadn’t realized he’d said it out loud, but now that he has… he can’t stop saying it. Sobbing it, really. “Why didn’t he choose me? Why didn’t he choose me?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know, honey,” Shiro says, soft soft soft. He puts his cool, Galra tech hand against Keith’s searing hot face. 

“I did everything…” he starts but can’t finish out loud. He did everything he could have ever dreamed of to show him, to win him. He risked his life time and time again. And it was worth it, it was. But the hollow rings out, wind whistles through it… Keith would have to live forever knowing he wasn’t even a choice. Not an option at all. Not for doing everything, not for going to the literal ends of the universe… Keith was not a thing to choose.

The thought it so pathetic, so horrifically sad, that he gives up the fight. His body goes slack against his will. This Shiro doesn’t let go. This Shiro pushes his hair away from his sweaty forehead and curls forward to kiss Keith’s tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyelids. 

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs. 

Keith takes a long, shuddering breath in and the exhale is the echo of a sob.

“You’re in love with him,” Shiro says so quietly Keith almost misses it. Even so, Keith can still hear the implication that Shiro finds comfort in the fact that Keith _does_ echo his unrequited love story. It almost sounds like relief.

“Was,” Keith corrects when he can find his voice again. 

_Was_. That feels right. 

He had been in love with him, no matter what he told anyone and no matter what he told himself. He had been so stupidly, madly in love with him. 

And now he doesn’t know how to feel at all. He doesn’t know what to do with the misplaced energy, the years long constancy of being in love with one person only to have it evaporate. 

Maybe now it’s just turned into anger.

“I wonder why my Keith didn’t choose me too,” Shiro says. “I have no answers. But I just think it’s natural to wonder.”

Keith nods and tries to sit up. 

“I’d choose you,” Shiro says, helping him with a firm hand on his back. 

This is where Keith would scoff if he felt any stronger or tougher. But he’s… soft. He’s a product of this Shiro’s touch and warmth and that’s fine.

“You would?” he asks.

“I would.”

Maybe he means hypothetically. Maybe he means if it was him, in love with his Keith, put into the same world as his. Two people in love with each other. But who’s to say they’d have fallen for each other anyway? They loved two completely different people than each other.

“When did you know you loved your Keith?” Keith asks. He tries to stand but Shiro subtly diverts the motion into laying down. Keith allows it.

“Kuron fell for him. Or, the clone in my place did. He used all my memories and feelings and applied them to the circumstances and that person and the logical thing to do was fall in love with him.”

“Where’s the line between you and the clone?” Keith asks, head spinning. He closes his eyes against the light. Shiro slots his body next to Keith’s. 

“There isn’t one. He died and I loved Keith too even before the time I opened my eyes in this body.”

“I wish he’d loved me.” It’s true. It’s that simple. The thought doesn’t make him cry, it doesn’t scoop any vital organs out of him. Wishes aren’t always fulfilled and it’s fine… 

“When did you know you loved him?” Shiro asks.

“I’ve always loved him.” It’s true. It’s that simple. “Since I first talked to him. It just kept growing.”

It’s freeing to say.

A calm washes over him, finally, and his aching eyes lull him to sleep.

**

It’s probably too soon to say, so he won’t say it out loud. It’s probably insanely irresponsible, too. But Shiro may just love him.

Keith sleeps for an hour or so after the crying. Shiro dozes with him for a little, but mostly he just watches over him. He hopes he feels cleansed in some way. He hopes he’ll stand taller and breathe clearer.

When he stirs, Shiro pushes the hair away from his forehead and kisses him there.

“Headache,” he mumbles. But then he laughs a little. At himself or the situation, Shiro isn’t sure, but the laugh reassures him anyway.

“I have something you can take for it,” Shiro says. “And coffee, real coffee, in the galley. You hungry?”

Keith nods. 

“I can make us some breakfast.”

“Can you cook?” he asks, judgmental and skeptical. 

“What? Yeah, of course I can.”

He laughs again. “My Shiro burns pasta.”

“I’m a great cook, I’ll show you.”

“Okay.”

Shiro starts listing off options from what his ship tells him he has in stock in the fridge. Keith seems to only be half listening, but that’s okay.

“Any egg dish you could dream of, how do you like your eggs?” Shiro concludes.

“I’m really sorry about earlier,” he says. “It’s embarrassing…”

“Don’t be sorry or embarrassed.” Shiro smooths his thumb over Keith’s bottom lip and he smiles. “I mean it, I only think more highly of you because of it.”

“Really?” he asks, opening his eyes.

Shiro nods. “Acknowledging something like that is hard but important,” he says softly.

They hold eye contact, Keith seemingly daring him to crack and somehow show he doesn’t really mean that. But he does mean it. 

“Fried,” Keith says finally. “Fried eggs on toast.”

“Coming right up.”

**

_Core Reality_

Keith took pictures this time. And Shiro’s shirt, but the one he’d been wearing so it smells lthe most like him. 

But the picture…

Keith has some of them open and to the side of his navigation panel. The two of them, shivering in the snow between their ships, kissing. Shiro in his narrow galley cooking their breakfast with an open mouthed smile on his face. The two of them sitting in the lodge for lunch. 

Keith misses him already. He had a post-crying headache all day and he should have felt scooped out and raw too, but he hadn’t. Not really. He’d felt peaceful. He’d felt supported and cared for. It was weird.

Leaving him had been the worst.

“Six months?” Keith had suggested when Shiro asked when they could meet again. His time was booked, back to back to back with missions and obligations. 

“Sooner,” Shiro begged.

Keith scrolled through his calendar, searching for any blanks. There was one weekend, just one.

“Two months?” Keith offered, pointing it out.

“I’ll take it.”

Keith watched him reschedule something to make it work. 

And they’d kissed and kissed and kissed until Keith’s finger tips were ice, until Shiro was shivering from the cold. 

And now Keith was hurtling back to his home base. 

He felt new.

The flight went so fast with his thoughts elsewhere. He got permission to land and waited for them to open the bay doors. He thought of how he’d gone on his ship to give Shiro the throw blanket he always curled up in at the cockpit when he was by himself and how yeah, he missed it a little, but he was so happy to think of it wrapped around Shiro… He thought of his mom who was supposed to be at the base and how he wanted to tell her everything about it.

“Is Krolia here?” Keith asked the kid manning the security checkpoint. 

“Yes, sir, just got here today.”

He nodded and thanked him and headed straight for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imagine me crying while writing this chapter in hour long chunks over the last two weeks.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We got some Discussions ahead for our various faves!!

_Core Reality_

Krolia takes the whole thing in stride. From confessing that he’d been in love with Shiro to saying he had feelings for the other Shiro and that he planned on seeing him again (and again and again). 

In fact, she barely has a reaction at all. She’s stone-faced and thoughtful, nodding along…

“Mom, am I crazy?” he prompts, desperate for her to weigh in at all.

She shakes her head. “I think you should take some time to consider the source of your feelings for the other Shiro. If the source is _him_ and your time with him, then no. You’re not crazy. But…” she trails off, looking at him uncertainly.

“But what?”

“If this is… well, if this is your surrogate Shiro—“

“He isn’t,” Keith cuts her off. He’s embarrassed by the idea of that, mostly because he knows that’s exactly what everyone will think. It’ll show his hand immediately and irreversibly to this reality’s Shiro and to all their friends. He’s barely even acknowledged that he had feelings for him in the first place… If he ever told people he was having sex with other reality Shiro, they’d twist it and pervert it. But they don’t know, they don’t understand. 

“Are you sure?” she asks softly. “Because even if that’s the case, Keith, if the two of you are communicating and everything is consensual, it’s not a problem.”

Keith blinks a hard couple of blinks. “Consensual?” he asks, trailing off. He hadn’t explained this right. “It’s not just… I mean, for me it’s not just physical and I don’t think it is for him either. He can get someone in his own reality if that’s all it was, so could I… I guess.” Even she crinkles her brow at that. It makes him laugh a little. “He’s not like my Shiro. I mean, I guess as a baseline he is. But he’s his own person, he’s different. It’s like… it’s more like they’re brothers or cousins and I just… ended up more into one than the other, I don’t know.”

She watches his face as he talks, doing her x-ray vision spy thing. But she reaches up and picks a piece of lint from his hair and smooths the shoulder of his jacket down too, doing the mom thing. And in the end, she nods. One curt, decisive nod.

“It sounds like you’ve thought this out,” she says. 

He has. He’s had hours and hours in flight to think it through. He’s laid in bed and thought about it. He’s checked and double checked every instinct and thought and emotion using a rigorous test. “Do I feel this way because it’s like my Shiro or because it isn’t? When I think this, which Shiro is coming to mind? When I want this, who do I want it with?” The only time he’s ever a factor is when Keith wonders what he’ll think—when he wonders what _everyone_ will think.

“What should I do?” Keith asks her. 

“I think you should talk to our Shiro and I think you should take things in stride.”

Keith nods as if he’s accepting an order. She’s right. The idea of it makes him nervous but he has questions he needs answers to. 

“Do you think…” she starts. She clears her throat uncomfortably. “The things we saw in the Quantum Abyss…” She says it with such a hopeful tone that Keith feels embarrassed…

There had been two flashes Keith did his best to never, ever think about. One had already come to pass: Shiro’s wedding day. All they’d seen was Shiro in a suit with a ring on his finger, smiling. It’d been quick, devoid of detail, cruelly hopeful. The other was one he’d filed away as impossible the day Shiro got engaged to someone else. It was of the two of them and it’d been absolutely humiliating to see along with his mother even if it was just a kiss and a conversation.

“Maybe,” Keith says. 

He hadn’t considered that at all…

**

_Another Reality_

Shiro folds Keith’s throw blanket, overwhelmed as ever by how cute it is that he owns such a thing, and tucks it under the sheets of his bed. He configures a wall panel in his captain’s quarters to display a picture of the two of them in the snow. 

He sits on the edge of his bed and looks at it, deep in thought. Their cheeks pressed together, both of them grinning… he remembers shivering and laughing. He remembers Keith’s ice cold hands in his. A natural smile curves his lips.

There’s a soft knock at the door that pulls his attention back to the present. He’d gotten back late, no one up but Atlas’s night shift. He crosses to the door, dreading being asked to do something. 

“Allura,” he says, surprised. “It’s late, what’s up?”  
“I saw your ship was here,” she said, slipping past him and into his room. “Lance is driving me nuts with wedding details so I left him and Hunk to it, they’re still talking about the menu. He said he couldn’t sleep until he had _something_ taken care of.” She rolls her eyes and leans against the metal shelf that serves as a built-in desk. “How’d it go?”

Shiro is suddenly embarrassed by the picture, but he doesn’t draw attention to it. “It went well.”

And as if she could read his mind, her eyes sweep the room and immediately fall on the soft glow of the panel. “Oh!” she exclaims, grinning. “Oh, look at you two.”  
She moves closer to take it in. Shiro’s face is blazing. 

“Yeah, that’s uh… Us.”

“You two are really hitting it off, huh?”  
Shiro nods, swallowing around a lump in his throat. She looks back at him over her shoulder and has a smug little smirk on her face.

“How’s the sex?” she asks.

Shiro’s mouth drops open, his cheeks heat up even more. “Allura!”

“What?” she asks innocently.

“I’m not answering that!”

“So you _are_ having sex.”

“Allura,” he pleads.

She turns her smug smirk back to the picture and appraises it some more. “He’s handsome, that hair… You know, I appreciate that he isn’t… our Keith.” She laughs. “No offense to him.”

“What do you mean?” he asks, desperate to keep the conversation from his sex life.

“Our Keith is bossy and hotheaded.”

“This Keith is hotheaded too,” Shiro admits fondly. 

“Well, if that’s what you’re into,” Allura teases. 

He is into it…

“And besides, our Keith would never run off with the Blades, he said he’s done his time with them. He likes being in politics. He likes his house and his husband and his life. Something tells me your Keith wouldn’t like the same things.”

“He wouldn’t.” 

She seems satisfied in her correct assumptions. She smiles serenely at the picture for a second longer before swiveling to look at Shiro. “So, spill.”

With a put-on laborious sigh, Shiro sinks to sit on his bed and looks at her with an eyebrow raised. “About what?”

“Tell me about your time with him.”  
He doesn’t know what to say, he’s not about to talk sex with her.

“What do you two talk about?” she asks, sitting at the foot of his bed so their legs meet in the middle. “I’ve never seen you like this.”

“Like what?”

“Happily liking someone.”

“Ouch.”

“It’s true.” She nudges his knee with her foot. 

Yeah, she’s right. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “I guess… I mean we talk about normal things, our lives and stuff. But…” It feels bare and private, but he does kind of want to process it… “We had a pretty intense conversation. He loved the Shiro in his reality and had to grapple with that… But, I think… I mean, being able to cry with someone is not something I’ve had in a long time…” He clears his throat. “I didn’t cry, but. I know I could? I don’t know, he’s really vulnerable with me and I always feel like I can be vulnerable with him. I don’t think I ever felt that bare with our Keith. With our Keith, I always feel like we’re competing or co-leading.” He shrugs, looking down at his hands. 

She nudges his knee with her foot again. “That sounds really sweet.” 

He doesn’t want to talk about it anymore, really. He looks up at her with a loose grin on his face. “And the sex is good,” he says slyly.

“I knew it!” she exclaims, joyful. 

Shiro laughs and shakes his head. “None of your business though!”

“Sure, of course,” she says, holding her hands up. 

The next morning, Pidge skids onto the bridge and crashes into him. “That message from other Pidge,” she says breathlessly. “And the files you sent from your diagnostics.”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you!”

“Yeah, you’re welcome,” he says, steadying her with one hand on her shoulder. 

“She wants to make a chat program to start with, I think I figured out a way! When are you going back? I want to get started.”

“Two months, I’ll send you the date—“ 

She cuts him off with a too-loud, “Perfect!” and then she’s gone. 

**

_Core Reality_

Keith sits in his ship a long time before disembarking. He runs through the loose script he’d come up with on repeat, picking at a loose thread on one fingerless glove. Shiro’d happily agreed to Keith’s surprise invitation to hang out. Keith had even asked Tabor to cover him during a mission so he could do it.

He’d made the time and the space and the plan, he’d even decided exactly what to say way beforehand. And now he had to actually do it. 

If only he could get off his damn ship.

Shiro calls. Keith considers not answering and just taking back off into space, but he forces himself to answer instead.

“Hey, everything okay? Heard you landed half an hour ago?” Shiro asks, concerned.

“Yeah, hey! Sorry, I uh… Wanted to check on my fuel cells before…” he trails off, his unformed excuse fleeing from his head before he can even get it all the way out. “I’m on my way.”

Shiro looks relieved. “Great! Curtis had to take someone’s overnight tonight but he wanted me to ask if you wanted to go out for breakfast in the morning. You should stay in the guest room.”

Christ, Shiro… 

Keith gives a noncommittal “oh yeah, maybe, let me see…” and tells him he’s on his way before hanging up.

If this talk goes well, sure. Breakfast with the husband. If this talk goes badly, absolutely not. 

He hadn’t thought of the mechanics of this, he realizes. He’s headed over to Shiro’s because that’s the plan, but should this even happen in his house? In the house he shares with his husband? In the house that has a guest room and a second bedroom for the _kid_ they’ll someday have?

Shiro lets him in with a big smile, hugs him, and hands him a drink. They sit on stools at the island in his big, shining kitchen.

“You look good!” Shiro exclaims, friendly. “You eating better now that you’re at the hub?”

“Yeah, the food production there is more steady but the satellite bases are getting there quick.”

“That’s awesome.”

“Yeah… So how are things here?”

“Great. Have a great new class of cadets right now, one of them is getting really close to your records.”

“Ah, have they beat your records already then?” Keith teases.

Shiro laughs his happy, unburdened laugh and Keith is… so happy to hear the sound. It makes the smile he hadn’t realized was on his face stretch into a grin. “Not all of them, thanks.”

“So some of them?”

“Yeah, some of them, punk.”

Keith smirks at him. Bantering feels good, it feels right. “How’s Curtis?”

“He’s great. Work is going well for him too.” He takes a long sip of the thick green juice he’s drinking and clears his throat. “And uh… We’re looking at surrogates… we haven’t told anyone that yet, you’re the first…”

Keith’s heart thumps, but it’s nothing compared to the hit he would have expected… “Oh, no way,” he breathes in wonder. 

Shiro nods, hands wringing around his glass nervously. “Yeah, we’re both trying to eat super healthy and follow the doctor’s orders like… to the letter, for uh…” He looks at Keith, cheeks somewhat pinker than before. “Fertility, I guess. Heh.”

Keith… doesn’t want to talk about this. Not yet. 

“Shiro, that’s amazing, good for you guys.”  
“Yeah, thanks, it’s crazy…”

“Yeah… can I uh, ask you something?”

It’s now or never, Keith figures. They could just talk about fertility and surrogates and babies for the rest of the day if he doesn’t cut it off now.

“Sure, what’s up?”

“Why… uh.”

Fuck.

Shiro tilts his head to the side, listening. He’s got his thoughtful, serious, mentor-figure face on.

“Or…” Keith redirects. He’d been so close to asking him why he didn’t choose him, but the phrasing makes him think of his Shiro and laying in bed and putting his vulnerability in his hands and trusting it’d be safe… He doesn’t feel that here. Here, he has to be on alert.

“Everything okay?” Shiro asks, worry seeping into his voice.

“Yeah, I just… I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately, I guess. And I just… really wanted to ask you why… or… did… uh. Did you ever have feelings for me?”

He squeezes his eyes shut immediately upon asking. He doesn’t want to see Shiro’s reaction. He barely wants to hear the answer, he finds. In the dark, all Keith can hear is his thudding heart. He wonders if Shiro can see it thumping beneath the fabric of his shirt.

But beyond his own beating heart, Keith can hear that it’s quiet. It’s quiet for a long time.

He opens his eyes despite how badly he doesn’t want to. Shiro is looking at him with an unreadable face. 

It occurs to Keith that this whole thing could result in Shiro being angry with him. He should have considered that before…

“Keith…” he says finally. 

“Yeah?” Keith asks, voice shaking.

“What’s this about?” He doesn’t sound mad, he sounds something else entirely.

“I need that answer, Shiro,” Keith says, voice low.

“I don’t want to hurt you…”

“If the answer is no, just fucking say it,” Keith says, voice skewing angry when really he just feels bruised and scared.

Shiro studies him, a frown tugging the corners of his lips downward. “I’m just confused, I don’t understand where this is coming from?”

Keith should go. He should get up and walk out and get in his ship and leave the solar system. His refusal to say no is almost worse than anything…

“Because, Shiro… because I… I told you how I felt about you in almost every possible way without ever saying it out loud and sometimes you seemed like maybe you felt the same way but mostly you didn’t. And I just need to know for sure… So just say no and I’ll drop it forever.”

Shiro doesn’t speak for a long time. He tips his glass back and forth, he stares at its contents, he shakes his head sometimes. Keith can’t take his eyes away now that they’re open. 

“I can’t,” he says finally.

“Just do it, please,” Keith pleads. “Just say it, it won’t hurt if you just say it, I promise.” Why the fuck is he promising that? Why should he reassure him? 

“No, I mean. I can’t… I can’t say that.” He sets the glass down flat with a sharp clink and laces his fingers together on the counter in front of him. “I can’t say that I never had feelings for you, is what I mean.”

Oh. 

Keith didn’t want that answer. 

And he hadn’t wanted the “no” either.

“What the fuck?” Keith says, voice barely audible even to himself.

Shiro closes his eyes and shakes his head. “It was never the right time, it was never right…”

“When?” Keith demands.

Shiro runs his hand over the back of his head, making the strands there stick straight out. “After I escaped from the Galra, after you broke me out of quarantine… some time in the beginning of Voltron, I can’t pinpoint it.”

“Why didn’t you say?”

“Because you were…” He shakes his head. “You were healing, you were right in the thick of it. And I admired you so much but I couldn’t put a wrench in your process.”

“The fuck does that mean, Shiro?”

“It means you were vulnerable and… it wasn’t right. I was a leader, I was your mentor, I’d known you before… It wouldn’t have been right for me to do that to you.”

Keith feels an unfathomable hurt and anger, so he gears himself up to strike. “So I was just a little fuck up—“

“No, don’t get mad at me for this,” Shiro says, firm and just south of angry. “I never said you were a fuck up, I said you were healing. You were an angry, lost kid who was growing up into your own person and I didn’t want to be responsible for getting in the way of that just because I had a crush, alright?”

“How would you have gotten in the way?”

Shiro shakes his head, laughs a humorless laugh. “I was too old for you… it was bad timing, Keith. You have to trust me on that. It could have been manipulative and unfair and I love you way too much to walk into that willingly…”

“So when did you get over your _crush_?”

Keith needs to police his own tone, he needs to bring it down or it’ll turn into a yelling match. His well-thought out script is in flames as it is, he went so far off-course… he hadn’t factored in this answer anyway.

“I can’t pinpoint that, Keith. You make it sound malicious, but to me it was maintaining a friendship that I’ve always cherished. To me, it was seeing you grow into the man I knew you could be and supporting you along the way. And you surpassed me.”

“What do you mean, surpassed you?” Keith says, voice ticking back up into dangerous territory.

“You saved my ass more times than I could count and I could never repay you for that or thank you enough… You didn’t need me. You had your own life ahead of you. You surpassed me. I’m not bitter about it, it’s the truth and I’m proud of you for it.”

Keith shakes his head, trying to banish that entirely. “We became equals.”

“Sure.”

“We did. We are.”

“Sure, Keith, yes.”

“It doesn’t make any sense.”

He shrugs. He looks sad. “I wish I could explain it better. I told myself I couldn’t have those feelings for you until I didn’t. I never stopped loving you though, Keith, you’re more than a brother to me, closer than a best friend… I love my husband. He’s the love of my life, I need you to understand that—“

“The other you, the one I’ve been seeing…” He lets that last word land however it will. “He said he fell for his Keith as Kuron. He said the clone fell in love with him and he couldn’t help loving him still, so what about you?”

Why the fuck is he doing this to himself?

Shiro pauses, looking at him with an expression on his face that Keith has never seen before.

“I couldn’t follow that lead, I couldn’t burden you with anymore than I had already burdened you with, I needed to own my own life and not depend on you… I needed my feelings to be _mine_. It makes so much sense for me to be in love with you, I know it does and I’m so sorry. It was never right…”

And for some reason, he feels a vice grip on his heart and lungs and throat _release_. His anger seeps out of him. His sadness, his latent longing. He looks at Shiro and he sees the scars. The visible ones and the invisible ones. He sees a flawed person who he loves and who loves him back. There’s been a mismatch of affection but it won’t always be like that.

“Shiro,” Keith says, soft. 

Shiro’s eyes look wetter than usual but no tears fall. “I love my husband,” he repeats, almost apologetic. 

“I know.” And it would have killed him to say it before but now he says it with freedom: “I’m happy for you, you’re good together.”

Shiro’s shoulders droop, an ease coming over his features. “Are you okay?”

Keith nods. “I just needed to know,” he says.

“Okay. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“I know. I know that. It could have been worse.”

Shiro gets up and paces, expelling the tightly coiled nervous energy he’d built up. He shakes out his shoulders, his hover arm lags behind him by just a millisecond. 

“Why’d you need to know?” he asks, coming to a natural, easy stop by the kitchen sink.

“Things have been so weird for us for so long, I guess I just needed something to give,” Keith says. It’s not the whole truth, but he’s building up to it. He’s trying to piece his script back together but it’s not entirely possible now.

“I’m sorry… I know things have been weird, I know. I miss you like crazy. I just haven’t known what to do without you giving me any clues. It felt like you were so mad and distant and I didn’t know why,” he says in a rush of words that takes Keith by surprise. 

“I just wasn’t processing and dealing with my own shit,” Keith admits. “I’ve been working through a lot.”

Shiro nods. “Hurts sometimes, huh?”

“You’re telling me,” Keith says with a laugh. “I’ve had help.”

“Yeah?” Shiro prompts.

Now or never…

“Yeah, the uh. Other reality version of you… We had an intense talk last time I saw him. It helped.”

“Right. And uh, are you seeing him again?”

Keith nods.

Shiro nods along with him. 

“Would it be okay if I fell for him?” Keith asks while he can still muster the last scraps of his courage. He doesn’t meet Shiro’s eyes when he asks but at least he doesn’t squeeze them shut.

“Like… _fall for him_ fall for him?” Shiro asks, stunned.

Keith nods. 

Keith can see the discomfort crawling all over Shiro. His heart sinks into his stomach and he finds himself chewing on his lip.

“I… I mean, why?” Shiro asks.

“I like him…”

“But do you like him because he’s me…?” 

Of course that’d be the concern and the assumption. Keith has always known and expected this but it still disappoints him. 

“He’s his own person,” Keith says. He hopes his voice is free of the desperation he feels. “I like him because he’s him and because our—“ He hesitates to call it a relationship… “—Friendship, or… whatever… is different from yours and mine, it’s… It’s mine, my thing with him. I like the ways he’s different from you.”

“Oh,” he says with a cringe like he’s been struck.

Keith plays the last part of that back in his head and feels bad, but it’s true.

“If you don’t want me to, if you’re too uncomfortable with it, I won’t…” Keith says, half-hearted and aching. 

Shiro makes a couple attempts at starting a sentence before he settles on: “That’s not for me to decide for you.”

“He’s not a replacement of you, he’s his own person,” Keith says, wanting Shiro to believe it.

“No one can replace me, I know,” he says, going for cocky but landing somewhere around insecure instead.

“Exactly,” he says, infusing it with meaning and hoping Shiro gets it.

Shiro looks at him long and hard, assessing and processing in the way that he does. When Keith really looks at him, he can _feel_ the differences between him and his Shiro so astutely, so entirely… There’s something about this Shiro he can’t read and there’s something about his Shiro that is like an open book. After awhile, this Shiro nods, a smile pulling at one corner of his lips. He pushes off from the sink and goes to the fridge. He pulls out a beer, opens it, sets it on the island. “Don’t tell Curtis,” he says. “We’re not supposed to be drinking…”

“And I drove you to it, I’m sorry,” Keith rushes out, clinging to the normalcy of Shiro’s tone. 

He huffs a laugh and knocks back a good fourth of the bottle in one go. “It’s okay. We’re okay.” Keith believes him. He knows the sound of his voice when he’s honest, and he knows the sound of it when he isn’t. He’s being honest. Shiro sighs and rubs his forehead. “Are you staying over tonight?”

“Do you still want me to?”  
“Do you respect my marriage?” He asks it like he knows the answer, like he’s just making a point. 

“Of course.” Of course he does. 

“Then yeah, can’t see why not. Curtis is looking forward to breakfast.”

Keith lets out a breath and feels his shoulders loosen. He wants this to be easy and he wants to be a part of this Shiro’s life and family. He wants the ease and comfort of Shiro’s friendship, unencumbered by the other stuff. Eventually, he wants Shiro to understand and support Keith’s own relationship, be a part of that family… Maybe it’s attainable.

“You’re going to be an amazing dad, you know,” Keith tells him, hoping they can return back to normal conversation. 

“God, I hope so,” he sighs, looking dreamy and happy despite the cloud of tension still breaking up over his head.

“You’re going to be such a sucker for that kid, I bet Curtis will need to play bad cop,” Keith continues. In his own way, he’s begging Shiro to move away from the previous conversation with him, to still love him…

“I wish I could argue with that,” Shiro says, smiling. It feels like a nod to Keith’s desperation, a soothing hand over a hot brow. “But you’re totally right.”

“Dibs on godfather,” he tests. 

Shiro scoffs. “Oh, it’s already been decided. You and Pidge, godparents.”

Keith’s face splits into a huge smile. Relief floods him so entirely it’s almost dizzying. “Really?”

“Of course,” he says, slugging Keith’s shoulder. “Can’t think of anyone I trust more.”

It’s attainable. All of it. Even if it’s awkward to start.

**

_Another Reality_

A week out from seeing Keith again, Shiro is at the top of his game. Focused, productive, efficient. The Atlas is a well-oiled machine and he’s just a part of it. He gets the sense that his personal and professional spheres are beginning to really _work_ together. 

He’s focusing on the report he has to give more than he’s listening to Sam Holt’s updates in the morning staff meeting, right up until he hears: “Shortly, we’ll be joined by the prime minister and his staff for the upcoming few weeks.”

“The prime minister?” Shiro asks, interrupting him. “From Daibazaal?”

“Yes, sir,” Sam says. From his left, Pidge looks at Shiro with laser-like focus. “He and Keith will be joining us to observe our activities in the solar systems surrounding theirs, they’ve had some difficulty forming diplomatic ties.” The tone of his voice says he’s repeating himself. 

“Of course, I’m sorry.”

He nods, forgiving, and carries on with his talking points. 

Immediately after the meeting, Pidge drags him by the sleeve all the way to her lab space. “You’re still going,” she says, more a command than anything else. “I need you to instal this new software.”

“Yeah, I’m still going,” he says. The thought of canceling on Keith with no way to tell him makes him feel sick. 

“Have you told him about this stuff, whatever it is?” she asks.

He shrugs. “He knows I’ve met up with him a couple times.”

“A couple times? That’s like two times. You’ve met up with him _three_ times, that’s more like a few.”

“Semantics.”

“Inexact numerical references are my pet peeve.”

“You have a lot of pet peeves—“

“Keith is going to be _here_ when you’re off on your top-secret Captain’s Weekend Off, you know he’s going to have questions.”

“He’ll be busy, he’ll be working.”

She flaps her hand at him dismissively but doesn’t dignify him with a response, knowing just as much as he does that that’s wishful thinking. Keith will insist on group dinners and hanging out and catching up. If Shiro sneaks off the Atlas, he’ll want to know why.

“You could always just tell him it’s a research mission I asked you to go on.”  
“I’ll tell him the truth,” Shiro says. 

She shoots him an apprehensive look. “Is it going to go over well?”

Shiro shrugs. 

“What is this truth you’re going to tell him, then? Practice on me, I’ll tell you if he’s going to lose it or not.”

“He’s not going to _lose it_.”

She adjusts her glasses, waiting for his truth. Shiro checks his watch, sees that the bridge is pinging him to take his position. “I gotta go—“

“Are you going to tell him that you have feelings for him or are you going to tell him that you just like hanging out with that Keith a lot? He’s going to be hurt, you know.”

Shiro lets his arm fall to his side and his shoulders slump. He forgets that they’re close, on a radio frequency all their own. It’s true for all of them with all of them, always will be. But Pidge and Keith share a temperament and that does something magic to them.

“I don’t want to hurt him.”

“Then figure it out. I’ll cover for you if you just want to lie.”

But Keith exposing a lie would be a more hurt Keith than anything else. “I’ll figure it out. I’m needed on the bridge.”

When Tabor and Keith and their staffers show up, Shiro’s only thought so far as being honest. 

But that doesn’t mean he can’t stall. 

On the Atlas, Shiro is the busy one. He has thousands of excuses at the ready and a vast majority of them are legitimate. For instance, right before their contingence arrived, there had been an air pressure issue on one of the levels. Shiro had to keep an eye on it and be on call to help evacuate and seal off the area. Nothing ended up happening, but still.

Keith and Tabor settle in with no help from Shiro. Allura and Lance take the lead in showing them around and getting them acquainted. Hunk and Pidge cajole Shiro into actually taking his lunch break to spend time with them all and he lets them and it’s nice. It’s good. It’s always good to be together.

But mostly, Shiro sees them in passing or in large groups. He doesn’t even think Keith notices, he’s busy working too.

Before he knows it, it’s the night before his weekend off in another reality and he’s already breathing a little easier. Once he’s back from this, he won’t feel the need to hide as much. 

Shiro’s double checking his supplies and flight systems in the comfort of his private bay deep in Atlas’s belly. He’s putting fresh laundry in the dresser and smiling softly to himself thinking about seeing his Keith again when an alert tells him someone has come into the bay.

Shiro emerges from the ship to see Keith leaning in the doorway between the gleaming hall outside and the power-washed concrete inside. 

“Where you headed?” Keith asks, casual and friendly.

Shiro doesn’t answer right away. He doesn’t want to lie to him, he doesn’t want to tell him the truth.

Keith’s countenance shifts. “Shiro?” he prompts. 

“Weekend off,” Shiro answers. “What brings you down here?”

Keith’s face falls, his shoulders tense up toward his ears. “Have you been avoiding me?” he asks.

He has. Shiro shifts his weight from one foot to the other, still on the ramp closer to the ship than to the ground below. 

“I’ve been…” he starts.

“Busy?” Keith finishes, disbelieving. 

“Avoiding you,” Shiro corrects. He clears his throat and looks down, as if not seeing it will let him miss the full weight of Keith’s hurt.

“Why?” His voice is soft and purposefully devoid of reaction.

“You and your husband and your staff uh… blindsided me a little. I had plans and I didn’t…” Didn’t what? Didn’t want him to know? Didn’t want him in the way? What didn’t he want exactly?

“So you have to be mentally prepared to put up with me now, huh?” Keith asks, voice going cold. “I thought we were good.”

Shiro feels the knife of guilt twist in his gut. He wants to say that they are good. Them, the two of them, their friendship is fine. But that may never be true with the secret hanging between them. 

“We’re fine,” he says, weak.

“No we aren’t.” Assertive. Bossy. So infuriatingly _Keith_. (Shiro loves this Keith, he does. With all his difficulties and rough edges.) “You won’t talk to me, how can we be fine?” 

Shiro wants to scramble for a temporary fix, but all he can think to say is the truth. 

“Keith, I need you to listen with an open heart,” he starts, voice gentle like he’s soothing a spooked horse. 

He walks down the ramp and stops just where it meets the ground, a couple arms lengths away from Keith. 

Keith glares and crosses his arms but there’s a flicker of child-like insecurity there. This is a man who has never had to question his place in his own life, in his friendships and family and team. Shiro loves him for that, he loves that part of him. But looking at him sometimes makes him miss his own Keith in a visceral way. He loves the way his own Keith seems like he’s always ready for an answer to a question he hasn’t asked. As if life has surprised him countless times before and not all of it has been bad. This Keith before him controls his world with a tight fist and there’s no room for surprise…

“I’m going to that other reality again,” Shiro says. Keith’s face is inscrutable. “To see him.”

Keith’s face softens measure by measure, confusion taking over. 

“Other me?”

Reluctantly, Shiro nods. 

“Oh.” A word of understanding in a simple, breathed syllable. 

Shiro doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t know what he could possibly say to ease this along…

Two seconds of total silence and stillness pass and then Keith swivels jerkily to the door at his back. Shiro thinks he’s going to leave, but instead he slams his palm against the manual close button. For an agonizing second, the only sound between them is the whisper-quiet whirring of the door sliding closed.  
“Are you fucking him?” Keith asks, not turning back around quite yet.

Shiro’s blood runs cold. “I asked you to be open—“ 

Keith turns back around. “Are you?” Keith demands, fire in his voice. 

“It isn’t any of your business,” Shiro begins to argue. It isn’t. And to define what he has with his Keith in such a crass way when Shiro was trying to _explain_ doesn’t sit right with him.

“Yes it is! Yes!” He’s furious. Energy pulses from him, his eyes flash gold. “He’s _me_. He looks like me. What do you mean it isn’t my business?”

He has a point.  
Shiro’s hands are shaking. 

“Then yes,” he answers as evenly as he can. “But it’s not just—“

“Shiro, what the fuck am I supposed to do with this information?” 

“I don’t know.”

Keith starts pacing and wringing his hands, eyes going anywhere but Shiro. 

“Do you have feelings for me?” he asks eventually.

Shiro desperately wants to sink into the floor and disappear. “Not anymore,” he says. 

Keith keeps pacing. It’s making Shiro feel dizzy and unmoored.

“Is he just your way to…” Keith fades off. “Why are you doing this?” 

“He’s his own person, separate from you,” Shiro says. He sinks to sit on the ramp. It’s all he can do. He sits and rests his elbows on his knees and rubs his temples. “I like him.”

“You like him?” Keith repeats faintly. HIs pacing slows to a stop. “But you don’t like me anymore?”

Shiro nods. 

“Are those things related?”

“I don’t know, maybe,” Shiro admits, too tired not to. Isn’t that the way of things? “Doesn’t mean I like him any less authentically.”

“How am I supposed to just take this in?” he asks, voice bare and stripped of anger.

“I don’t know.”

Keith takes a heartening breath and asks, “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“Because I knew this would happen, I knew we’d fight about it. Because it’s new and I’m… _so_ into him and afraid of messing it up. I’ve never felt this way about anyone and opening it up to scrutiny is terrifying to me.”

Keith looks so small and lost when he shakes his head. “I meant why didn’t you tell me you had feelings for me…”

Shiro’s voice gets caught in his throat. He shakes his head. He doesn’t want this conversation, it’s not the one he needs… 

“At what point would it have made a difference?” he asks anyway, mentally kicking himself.

Keith looks pained as he considers the answer. “I would have dropped everything…” 

“At what _point_?” Shiro demands again, swallowing down the anger rising in him. 

“I don’t know, up until being engaged.”

Shiro pushes himself back up to standing. “Don’t say that.”

“You’re my best friend, I love you the most—“

“Don’t say that,” Shiro growls, cutting him off. “You love your husband.”

Keith nods. “Yes, I do.”

“You asked a question and I answered it,” Shiro says, trying to usher him to the door. “I’d like you to go.”

His heart is pounding, his face feels hot, his head is spinning. 

“I’m sorry,” Keith says, resisting Shiro’s attempts to get rid of him.

“You never…” Shiro starts but a wave of hurt crashes over him and he has to pause. “You never felt the same way I did. It’d have been pity, nothing else.”

He knows that to be true. He’s come to terms with that. 

“Never pity. I’d have tried,” Keith says. 

Shiro knows that’s true too. He also knows it wouldn’t have done anything for either of them to pretend and _try_.

“That’s so fucking cruel,” Shiro laughs. “That’d have been so cruel to me and to Tabor and I would have hated you for it in the long run.”

Also true, even if it stings to say.

“I’d never hurt you—“

“That’s a lie,” Shiro says, final. That makes Keith fall silent. “You can’t have everything you want and everyone you love under your control. You don’t get to have everything you want. I’m not something to collect.”  


That hurts Keith, he sees it land. A sick part of himself is glad.

“It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it?”

Keith’s jaw moves back and forth, lips pressed closed over his teeth. He’s hurt, he’s hurting, Shiro’s _glad_.

“I love my husband,” Keith says after awhile. He rubs his face and his shoulders sag. 

“I know you do.”

“I’m glad I didn’t have to choose, but I’d have chosen you…” he says, defeated in some way Shiro doesn’t understand. 

“It’s not fair for you to say that. Not to me, not to Tabor.” 

He nods after awhile. “Okay.”

He wants to fight. He wants to yell. It’s been stirred up in him. But the cool logical part of him is winning out. 

“Keith and I are good together. That version of him, this version of me,” Shiro says, voice so much kinder than he thought it would be.

Keith nods, eyes locked onto Shiro’s. 

“And you and Tabor are good together. That’s why I never said anything.”

And that’s the devastating truth. He’d have said something a hundred times if it had been anyone but Tabor. If he hadn’t seen the way they fit together, the way they loved each other. If he hadn’t trusted Tabor to give Keith everything Keith deserved, he would have done anything to break them up. But instead, he stood beside them at their wedding and he vowed to himself that he would move on.

And he has.

Again, Keith nods. He crosses to Shiro. “I love you,” he says, firm. 

“I love you too,” Shiro says back. He feels the definition of that love between them solidify and slot into place. 

Keith hugs him and Shiro hugs him back, long and hard and meaningful.

“Have fun this weekend,” Keith says when he pulls away. He doesn’t wait for Shiro to respond, he just leaves. 

Shiro stands in the center of the bay, breathing and listening to the sound of Keith’s footsteps down the hall and the even softer sounds of a status report being read out at the cockpit on his ship. 

He knows this is a hard pill to swallow. He knows this isn’t quite resolved. He knows they have work to do. 

But when he thinks about tomorrow, about kissing the person he’s falling in love with, he feels so calm and right. So ready. And at least now that it’s out there, some of his fears are gone. 

He stays in the bay for awhile, longer than he needs to. He vacuums the whole ship just because. He triple checks his fuel and coolant. He quadruple checks his comms and flight systems. 

He’s antsy. He feels the lasting sting of conflict. He feels _a lot_ of things, not all of them definable. 

It’s late and he’s sitting on the nose of the ship now, day dreaming about the weekend, when Pidge shows up and blinks up at him questioningly.

“All’s well, boss?” she asks. She has one hand balled up in a fist, holding something small.

He sighs. “It’s fine.”

“Keith was quiet at dinner and you didn’t show up so I figured…”

“Yep,” he confirms. 

She nods and rubs the back of her neck. “Well.” And then she brightens. “Good news, then. I think I have a functional chat program for you!” She opens her fist to reveal two microchips. “Told you it’d be old school.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What lies ahead: cuteness and figuring out how to make a Trans Reality Relationship work.  
> What doesn't lie ahead: MORE MELODRAMA OF THIS DEGREE. 
> 
> TY for reading! <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy 11k of self-indulgent Vacation Vibes, Romance, Conversations, and Minor HIjinks (you can decide where the romantic BJ falls in this itemized list).

_Core Reality_

Keith got condoms this time.

He’d felt both astonishingly adult and impossibly young while he bought them from an impersonal cashier robot at a pharmacy close to base. The nerves… the nerves made him feel young, but the concept itself made him feel grown up.

(The fact that he “feels” grown up about a condom purchase, funnily enough, makes him feel _extremely_ young.)

He focuses on the sensation of this as he flies toward the rift so he doesn’t replay his conversation with Shiro over and over again in his head like he had been. 

It’s just that knowing Shiro had feelings for him and purposefully chose not to anymore… It’s just that knowing he fought against attraction and love… It’s just knowing that as much as he did it for himself and his own peace of mind, he did it for Keith’s own growth…

Fuck.

It’s just that he’s not used to seeing Shiro as human. 

He’d said that he needed to own his own life. That’s the part Keith understands the most. That’s the part that shrinks Shiro down from (for lack of better analogy) Atlas with the Earth as his eternal burden to… well, a lesser deity or a hero or something. Keith’s classic Greek knowledge only goes as far as learning constellations got him.

Anyway, Keith fought so long and so hard to preserve Shiro. Out of love and fear and stubbornness and loyalty and a laundry list of other strengths and weakness. He’d never deeply considered that everything Shiro had gone through, everything Keith had saved him from, had made him feel like a stranger in his own life. He’d never thought those things would make him question his own feelings and instincts. 

But it makes perfect sense.

Keith, more than feeling both young and grown at the same time and feeling a hundred different ways about the outcome of their conversation, is mostly just emotionally sore. Tenderhearted. Tired.

But with every breath and every second closer to _his_ Shiro, he feels lighter.

Which is not to say he hadn’t spent plenty of time drilling himself to his wits end about his motivations. Krolia and Shiro both had asked him if he was just projecting his feelings onto a new but physically identical person. He wasn’t, he knew that. But was the other Shiro doing that to him? Was he just a replacement Keith? 

Thoughts like that can drive a person crazy.

But, he spent years not having important conversations and the stakes here are relatively low. Keith’s going to ask. Simple as that.

After the sex, though. 

He smirks to himself at the thought. His heart thumps hard in his chest, stomach swooping, body going warm. Arousal. An adult feeling for an adult person. He wants to see his Shiro so badly. He misses everything about him. He misses who he is when he’s with him. He wonders what would change if Shiro really did just like him because he’s an easy substitute. He has a feeling he isn’t, though. And that’s pretty cool.

With the rift in sight and his coordinates set, Keith doesn’t hesitate before passing through it.

**

_The In-Between_

Shiro is early again. He hadn’t even slept, actually. He’d stayed up and laid around his ship parked in its bay. Keith had probably retreated to his and Tabor’s room immediately after dinner, but Shiro hadn’t wanted to chance a casual run-in. 

He installs Pidge’s chat program, runs her battery of tests, applies patches, debugs, whatever. He’s getting pretty used to the maintenance on all her Trans-Reality Experiments (“T-Rex, Shiro, call them T-Rex,” she’d scolded the last time he fully read it out). He likes that this is all getting to be routine. Scientific research stuff, sorta exploring a new planet, kissing, sex, conversation, planning the next time.

He’d like some adjustments though. He’d like longer times spent together and less of the science part of it. He’d like weeks. Months. He’d like to know every single thing about his Keith. The origin of every scar and every emotional trigger. Every story. Every hair on his head. Every relationship he has with everyone he loves.

It’s a bit much, Shiro knows. So he won’t say any of that out loud, but he’ll certainly let his actions speak for him. He wants to ask Keith questions and get him talking. He hopes, selfishly, that Keith doesn’t just want to process his other-Shiro feelings. And, still selfishly, he wants to hear all about how he doesn’t have feelings for other-Shiro anymore.

He’s just wrapping up the last of the work to be done for Pidge when Keith shows up on his radar. Also early. Shiro grins and rushes to open up the comms channel between them. 

“You’re early,” he says. “By a varga or so.”

“And you’re even earlier, Admiral,” comes Keith’s sly, teasing, beautiful voice. “I have to run tests, obviously, do you want to dock and take a tour of my ship while they run?”

“Is that an innuendo?” Shiro flirts. He sits at the cockpit and takes manual control over the flight system so he can edge right up to Keith’s craft. 

“Oh,” he laughs. Shiro imagines cartoon hearts floating over his head at the sound of Keith’s innocent surprise. “It can be,” he recovers, seductive.

“I’ll take that tour, I’d love to see your ship.”

“The real one or the innuendo one?”

“Both.”

“So, should I do this tour naked? Would that do the trick?”

“It absolutely would.”

“Is this a good time to mention I record audio and video during these tests so Pidge can analyze them later?”

“I don’t know about you guys, but I think all the Paladins in my reality have seen way too much of each other. Are you saying Pidge hasn’t seen you naked already?”

Keith is silent for a couple beats. “I never considered that, and the answer is that I’m not sure.”

“Have you seen her naked?” Shiro asks.

“Absolutely not!” he answers immediately. Shiro can practically hear how fast his face goes red. If they used the video functionality, he knows he’d be able to see it too. “Have you?”

“Not on purpose or in a creepy way,” Shiro says. “I’m about to dock, are you ready for me?”

Keith mutters, shaking off embarrassment. 

Shiro is endlessly endeared. His Keith is so charmingly innocent and unaware. Meanwhile, the Keith back home has blackmail pictures of everyone’s butts. Though, none of them ever felt very threatened by them. And Tabor may have made him delete them anyway…

“Ready. The lights in the airlock flash blue when it’s safe to go in without a suit. You know, in case you want to take this tour naked.”

Okay, he’s not entirely innocent or unaware. Shiro laughs longer than necessary due to pure giddiness.

He waits for the blue flashing and throws his hatch open. Keith’s messy hair and wide grin is visible in the narrow window in his own hatch. A calm robotic voice tells him the airlock is normalizing pressure and counts down. Shiro puts his palm on the glass to wait and feels Keith tapping on the other side, impatient and excited.

Shiro can’t remember what coming home is supposed to feel like, but he thinks this must be pretty close to it.

“Aw, you’re dressed,” Keith teases when the hatch unlocks and slides open. 

Shiro envelopes him in his arms and buries his nose in his hair, a little beyond jokes just for now. Keith hugs him back, an effervescent laugh bubbling out of him. He turns his face into Shiro’s neck and takes a deep breath.

They stand like that until a loud beep sounds from somewhere behind Keith. He groans and pulls away. “Something needs me. Come in, look around.”

Keith’s ship is somehow neater than Shiro would have assumed. The cockpit is sleek and immaculately clean. A Voltron action figure sits off to the side, perched on the ledge between the control panel and the windshield. 

Shiro pokes his head into an open door and gets a glance of a perfectly made bed before Keith draws his attention back to him with a pleased murmur. 

“I think our Pidges are onto something,” he says when Shiro looks his way. “There’s a line of code with a comment in it about a chat program? Everything is running fine too, so…”

“Oh, I have that,” Shiro says. He pats his jacket pockets until he finds the second, unused microchip. He hands it to Keith and feels like it’s a box of chocolates or a bouquet of roses or something… “For you,” he says, voice pitched low.

Keith, to his credit, sorta accepts it like it’s a bouquet too. “Oh my God!” He turns it over in his fingers. “Old school.”

Shiro laughs and shrugs. “Yeah. Best she could do for the beta program. I can show you how to install it, I have it running on my tablet.”

Shiro’s pleasantly surprised when Keith pulls him in by the collar and kisses him. 

“Was that for Pidge’s benefit or mine?” Shiro asks, breathless, when Keith gently pushes him away. He gestures to a small drone floating a few feet above and around Keith’s shoulders. 

“Mine,” Keith asserts with a sharp smile. “And don’t worry about that, Jeff puts itself into sleep mode when the last test is over.”

“Jeff?” Shiro looks up at it. It’s lit-up front panel shapes itself into a smiley face, winks, and diffuses back into a solid circle of benign yellow light. “I think our Pidges are the same spirit.”

**

“Your ship is really clean,” Shiro comments. He’s pulled a chair from the galley so he can sit right beside Keith and rest his chin on his shoulder. Keith loves the weight, the breath that ghosts his neck, the proximity. 

“Personal craft, don’t use it as much as I’d like to.”

“Hm, something tells me you’re just super tidy.”

“I don’t have a lot of things, makes it easier to look like I’m clean.”

“A minimalist, huh?” Shiro says. He pokes Keith in the ribs and Keith squirms away from it, laughing.

“I guess. But so are you.” 

Shiro nods, moving Keith’s shoulder with his chin as he does. Keith curls his arm up to pat Shiro’s hair. The last test is a few percentage points away from being done. He’s eager to land somewhere and explore and kiss and talk and kiss and talk and kiss some more. 

“Did you pick a planet while you were here five vargas too early?” Keith asks.

“Three vargas, thanks.”

“Uh huh, well did you?”

“I did,” he says, sounding mysterious.

“Care to tell me?” Keith tugs the snowy white hair between his fingers just a tad to scold him for being coy. 

“How do you feel about seeing Arus, 20 years further along than the one we know?”

A complicated set of feelings flickers through Keith’s body. Nostalgia, sorrow, hope. He settles on excited, though. “I’d love that,” he says, unable to mask the way he feels.

Shiro just slides an arm around his waist and squeezes. 

Keith wants to drag Shiro to bed when the tests finish, but his desire to see Arus in the sunlight takes precedence. He urgently shoves Shiro back toward the airlock and goads him to get ready to take off.

“Eager?” Shiro says. 

“And excited,” Keith adds. 

“Bet we can get a room this time,” Shiro muses.

“Bet so,” Keith agrees.

They continue teasing and flirting through the flight. Keith tries to trace back to where talking like this got easy and finds no one origin. Talking to Shiro back home can be like this, but it doesn’t fill him with the same dizzy joy. He feels light and silly and energized. He feels unmasked. 

They land on a site close to where the Castle Ship had stood for ten thousand years. The land itself is a no-fly zone ringed by a massive, coliseum-like structure made of glittering white stone. 

Arus is bustling with air traffic, but large swaths of the land come up on Keith’s scanner as pristine wild lands speckled with intermittent urban spaces. A quick look at local media and population data shows a stable society with high literacy and low poverty, community focused and environmentally conscious. 

He takes a deep, steadying breath and lets it wash over him. This is a thriving planet. This is peace made physical. 

“Amazing, isn’t it?” Shiro asks after a reverential stretch of quiet. “Are you ready to disembark?”

“Yeah, I’m coming.”

Just as Shiro suspected, they get a place to stay no problem. Keith finds a listing for a resort that is a cluster of bungalows spread out in the forest. The Arusian from the reception desk happily explains to them that their biggest economic draw is tourism thanks to the planet’s role as the training grounds for Voltron while she takes them to their one-roomed cabin. Shiro and Keith smile knowingly at each other well over her head. She pulls up a list of local attractions on the room’s holographic interface and leaves them to it. 

Shiro opens his arms and gestures around, smug. “Couldn’t get you a ski lodge, but I got you a treehouse.”

And it is like a treehouse. The cabin stands on low stilts and is wrapped in vines and branches. The light that filters through the windows is green and gold, moving with the breeze. Light wood and natural, un-dyed linens make up the furnishings and bedding. The air smells just like Keith remembers.

“This is amazing,” he says. “But I got us the treehouse.”

Shiro laughs and sweeps Keith up in his arms. “Okay, true. I’ll work on the ski lodge.”

Keith smiles against his lips. “Thank you, please do.”

Shiro murmurs a promise and kisses him. “Did I mention that I missed you?” he asks, slow and sweet.

“You didn’t.”

“Well, I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

“How’s everything?”

Keith could lie and say great, but he doesn’t lie to this Shiro. He doesn’t want to sour the idyllic time they’ve had so far, but he wants what he has with this man to be real and he only gets to see him so often… “I talked to Shiro,” he says.

“Oh. About…?”

Keith nods. Shiro steps away a little, but his hands are still on Keith’s elbows. 

“How’d it go?”

Keith lets out a puff of breath. “Not great, not terrible?” 

Shiro moves them both to sit on the bed and Keith lets him. He loves when Shiro makes these little gestures. It makes him feel like they’re a couple… Are they a couple?

“Do you want to talk about it?” Shiro asks.

“Maybe later,” Keith says, squeezing his hand where it rests on his knee. “How’s everything with you?”

He tilts his head back and forth, working through some reluctance. “Keith cornered me last night and I told him about us…”

Keith lets out a nervous laugh. “God, how’d it go?”

“Oh, everything will be fine,” he says, pained but breezy. “We can table that for later too.”

Keith nods and leans forward to kiss his cheek. “Should we go out for lunch or…?” He hopes his voice is seductive. 

“Order room service?” Shiro asks, voice low and warm. He curls an arm around Keith and extends the other toward the holographic menu spinning over the nightstand. 

Keith bites his lip, eyes dropping to Shiro’s mouth. 

“Mm, room service,” Shiro determines, closing the distance between them but still bringing the menu closer. He just dips out of a kiss to peruse the offerings, scrolling through with a finger. “Oh, they have chocolate mousse.”

“You’re a tease,” Keith murmurs.

“What can I say? I like the dance,” he murmurs back while tapping to order the mousse.

**

Shiro traces his fingers down the curve of his spine, feeling the knobs of his vertebrae and the smoothness of his skin. His back rises and falls with his easy breath. He keeps his gaze on Keith’s face and his gently closed eyes and the feathery fringe of his thick eyelashes and the resting smile on his lips… Soft, soft, soft, and every synonym in the thesaurus for the same word.

He’s awake, Shiro can tell. He’s conscious and so at ease under Shiro’s hands. All defenses are down, not needed. 

Shiro drags his hand back up his spine and flattens his palm against the skin stretched between his shoulderblades. There’s a light constellation of freckles across the back of his shoulders as if from a far off summer. There are scars from the war with various gradations of healed and faded. There’s bone and muscle. He languishes in the concept of Keith and the reality of Keith. He’s never experienced another person so thoroughly before. 

He traces a finger down the swoop of a rib until he comes upon an unfamiliar puncture wound scar just at the bottom of his rib cage.He presses against it in wonder. 

“How’d you get this?” he asks. “Keith back home doesn’t have this.”

Keith murmurs, opening his eyes slowly. “Fell off the roof when I was a kid,” he answers with a slight laugh. Shiro blinks in surprise, Keith grins mischievously. “My dad was fixing the garage door opener and had pulled a bunch of boxes and things out. I knew he would be too distracted to notice me climbing up onto the roof, so I did. I ended up slipping and rolling off and right into the pile of those boxes. Fell right on an old trophy of my dad’s.”

“Jesus.”

“Your Keith had a Krolia to keep his ass in line, I’m sure,” he says, strangely affectionate.

“Yeah, definitely.”

“My dad did his best, but I was a handful.”

“You? Never,” Shiro teases, faux-shocked. “What’d your dad do?”

Keith laughs a little, eyes sliding shut again. “Flipped out. Drove me to the hospital with the trophy still sticking out of my ribs and yelling about how I could have punctured a lung while crying. I was fine, just needed stitches.”

“How’d you even get on the roof?” Shiro asks. He just wants to hear him talk. He likes the way his quiet, tired voice hits his eardrums. He likes being with him like this. 

“Climbed the tree,” he says simply. “I was always trying to get closer to the sky. Half-Alien problems.” He says it with a sweet smile that makes Shiro’s heart swell.

Shiro runs his fingers through Keith’s hair and kisses the hairline over his ear. 

“If we’re talking scars,” Keith says. He rolls onto his side and shifts closer, dropping an arm over Shiro’s waist. “What’s the story with the arm?”

“The general lack thereof? Galrans took it to clone me, gave me a cybernetic one, made me fight others for their entertainment…” Shiro trails off when Keith frowns at him.

Keith presses a kiss to the bridge of Shiro’s nose, where the scar halves his face. “Is this the original arm?” Keith asks.

Shiro knows the basics of Keith’s version of the events. The clone going rogue, Keith fighting the clone, Keith destroying the arm. He’s mentioned Shiro’s hover arm to him before. A lot of it lines up with Shiro’s own experience, up until the hover arm thing.

Shiro shakes his head. “I went without for awhile.”

Keith’s eyebrows lift. “You fought without it? Formed Atlas?”

Shiro nods.

Keith’s eyes dart over his face, reading him like he’s trying to find the words for his next question written there. Shiro remembers how everyone tried to get him to commit to some replacement. Shiro remembers the fear left over from the other arm’s potential. He hadn’t wanted to lose a single second to adjusting to a new weight on his body or a new system with new rules.

And he’d felt wholly himself. Un-enhanced, all-original Takashi Shirogane. Or at least, as close as he could possibly feel to Himself while knowing his body is borrowed, lab-created organic matter. 

The question Keith probably has is simply, “Why?” So he just answers. 

“I was afraid of inhabiting a body that was anything but 100% mine but I had no choice in the matter. I had a choice about this,” he says. “I couldn’t risk it then. Everyone offered solutions and I rejected all of them.”

Keith’s eyes had settled on his when he spoke. There’s something in his gaze that warms him. “Amazing,” he whispers.

Shiro’s chest feels full and tight, the feeling crawls up his throat until his eyes prickle. He clears his throat. “This arm, uh… is Galran. A gift, in a way, from Kolivan. They found the original specs for the one I had before and built it. It was a good way to show that Voltron believed in a peaceful Galran future.”

“What made you change your mind?” Keith asks. He swipes his thumb under Shiro’s eye, wiping away an escaped tear without commenting on it. 

Shiro’s cheeks flush in minor embarrassment but he presses on. “Lots of therapy drilled it into my head that it’s my body just because it’s the one I have. The arm wasn’t necessary but it makes things easier. I don’t know, I soul searched and talked to Keith about it. Him and the Blades being Galran has always stood as a sort of antithesis to my own experiences …” He shrugs a shoulder. “And Pidge quadruple checked it and still runs diagnostics to make sure it doesn’t make me go rogue,” he says, sheepish. 

Keith smiles at that. “It’s like checking to make sure the door is locked more than once. Just gives you peace of mind.”

“Exactly.”

“Are you happy with it?”

“Yeah, I’m used to it,” Shiro says.. “But I take it off when I feel like it. That’s another perk, it’s removable this time around.”

Keith smiles in response to the impish delight in Shiro’s voice. 

Shiro smiles back. “Wanna see?” he taunts.

“Yeah,” Keith says. 

“Sometimes I take it off to extend my reach so I can reach things without getting up.” He untangles himself from Keith to prop himself up on an elbow. “Let me show you. Want more chocolate mousse?”

“Shut up. “

“No, I mean it.”

“Shiro,” he admonishes, but Shiro’s laughing and shifting to take the arm off. “Oh my God.”

“More mousse?” he asks, flopping onto his back and using the prosthetic arm to reach for the room service menu. 

“No! No more mousse.” 

But Keith is breathless with laughter. Shiro loves making him laugh. Shiro brings the menu closer and releases it to hover over their heads while he pats Keith’s head clumsily. 

“Impressed?” Shiro asks, using it now to lightly smack Keith’s butt.

“Very,” he says before pressing their lips together. 

**

In the light filtering in from the windows all around them, Shiro’s scars stand out dark red. Keith smooths his thumb along Shiro’s cheek, feeling the difference between unmarred skin and the slash across his face. 

Shiro returns the gesture, running his own finger tips over the long-healed burn running up Keith’s cheek. 

Keith has been asked before if the scar tissue feels differently. If it ever still hurts. If he’ll get it lasered away or if he’ll use some cream to make it fade, et cetera et cetera. But the Shiros never ask any of that. The Shiros know. 

Keith had always found comfort in the things that were the same between himself and the Shiro back home. He’d fantasized about this moment. Laying in bed and looking at each other and touching scars and _knowing_ everything without having to speak.

He ghosts his lips over Shiro’s and drops his hand to his shoulder and drags it down his arm. He’d always wanted to touch the skin between his arm and the prosthetic but he’d never been on that level. Now, he touches it every time he can and this Shiro (his Shiro) lets him. 

He imagines this man leading a battle and winning a war, traumatized and tired and down an arm, and can’t even form words for how proud of him he is. He finds the truth of this Shiro is better than the fantasy of the other. Because he doesn’t know everything. He can’t just lay beside this person, gaze at them, and _know_ and that is incredible. That’s better. He wants to hear Shiro tell his own stories, he wants them to be new. He wants to tell him about himself and have it be new too. He wants to get to a point of knowing, not start from that point. 

“What are you thinking about?” Shiro asks. 

“How much I like talking to you and how much I want dinner,” he says, tacking on the latter to protect himself a little.

“I like talking to you too.” 

Keith notes that he ignores the dinner thing. He slips his hands down Keith’s body and presses closer. His mouth is hot and wet on Keith’s neck and as much as he wants a second round… his stomach growls loudly in protest.

“Hungry,” Keith explains when Shiro rears back to look at him, amused.

“Fair enough.”

**

They follow the wooden path back toward the main building, quiet but present. The air here reminds Shiro of being high up in the mountains - brisk, clean, fresh, thin. He has to breathe twice as deep as normal but it feels so good to do so. The sunlight cuts through the woods around them in golden slants, catching in Keith’s hair and making his skin glow. His hair has a purple sheen to it, only in direct light. Shiro can’t wait to slip his fingers through the strands again. 

He listens as Keith asks the receptionist for dinner recommendations but his eyes are tracing the lines of his body as he leans against the counter. 

“Night market, Shiro?” Keith asks, turning back to him right as he’s staring at the curve of his ass. When Shiro’s eyes snap back to his face, Keith is smiling smugly. “Or should we stay in after all?”

“Night market sounds great.”

“Uh huh,” Keith teases. He directs a Thank You to the receptionist as he pushes off the counter and nudges Shiro’s shoulder as he passes to lead him out.

Their silence continues. Shiro curls up in it. They’re both taking everything in. The distinct sound of Arusian birds trilling around them. The smell of sun-warm grass. The breeze. 

The first time Shiro had stepped foot on this planet, he’d been struggling through the trauma of his time in captivity and thrown right into a new nightmare. He’d sit outside and breathe and close his eyes and listen to the sounds of _nothing_ around him. Birdsong and insects and leaves rustling in the wind. 

Being here again reminds him of how important that comfort had felt then. 

As they walk, the landscape around them gets a little more urban. Cobblestone roads, sidewalks, storefronts, benches, streetlights. The fact that 20 something years in the future, there’s a planet that still feels timeless and free from the slick high-tech trappings Shiro’s already so used to and that it’s Arus makes Shiro smile to himself. 

They hear the sound of a market before they see it - music and voices and movement. They turn a corner and suddenly a square full of people and stalls and paper lanterns greets them. The smell of seasoned meat cooking and baking bread hits him like a wall. Keith turns to him and grins, Shiro pulls him into a kiss. 

“I’m starving,” Keith says, tugging him along after him. 

Maybe this is escapist. Maybe it’s like the magical, liminal space of a vacation. Summer fling excitement, summer fling intensity. A flash in the pan, all-encompassing thing that burns out. Shiro’s not sure. He watches Keith as he walks half a pace ahead of him and tries to mentally prove to himself that’s exactly what this is. A mental exercise ahead of the real fizzling out…

But he can’t.

He reaches out and snags his hand, twines their fingers together and pulls him into line. Their steps sync up, Keith smirks and shakes his head at Shiro and knocks their shoulders together affectionately.

Shiro thinks of the chat program installed and waiting to be tested out when they’re in different realities again. He wonders how long they can keep things up like this. He gazes at Keith’s sharp profile and the soft smile on his lips and thinks he could keep it up for a long, long time. 

“Oh! Excuse me, I’m sorry,” Keith exclaims, stopping abruptly and dropping Shiro’s hand. 

He kneels down and Shiro looks down to see a smaller than usual, possibly adolescent, Arusian sitting on the ground rubbing their head amongst a pile of their dropped groceries. 

“Are you okay?” Keith is asking, hand on their small shoulder.

Shiro makes himself useful by rounding up the fruits and vegetables rolling around them.

When the groaning Arusian looks up at Keith finally, they look ready to curse him but instead they let out a surprised peep.

“Paladin of Voltron! Spitting image!” they say, scrambling to their feet. They look up at Shiro with his arms full of their groceries and gasps again. “Oh! I know you two!”

“Er, your food,” Shiro says, stooping to gently place the things back in the toppled over canvas bag at their feet. He narrowly misses bashing heads with them when they go into a sudden, very deep bow. 

“I… Oh, you’re bowing,” Keith stutters.

Before they can get any more information, the Arusian scoops up their bag and takes off, immediately getting lost in the crowd.

“Uh,” Keith says, sitting back on his heels and looking up at Shiro. “Did we get recognized?”

Shiro shrugs.

He can’t shake the faint feeling of danger, though. The encounter was innocent enough but he can’t fight the prickling at the back of his neck, the heightened tension in his body, the sense that something is waiting for them right around the corner. Shiro feels like a cocked gun.

Keith must sense it. He squeezes Shiro’s hand and draws him in as they walk. “It’s fine,” he says.

“I know, yeah. It was just weird.”

“Yeah, super weird,” Keith agrees. There’s something to his voice that tells Shiro he’s on alert but pretending not to be. Shiro finds comfort knowing that he has his luxite blade permanently strapped to his thigh. 

But as they walk and stop to ask vendors questions and accept samples, Shiro relaxes. One stall has a huge spread of bread in all shapes and colors and textures. The alien manning it is handing Keith a sliver of baguette with some sort of jam spread on it to sample when someone steps up behind them and clears their throat.

Shiro whirls around, hand going to his hip where no weapon waits, his heart in his throat and hammering but—

“Fancy seeing you two here,” another Shiro, 20 years older and wiser, says with a wide smile.

“Oh fuck,” Shiro says, clutching his chest. 

Keith had turned with him, hand on the blade of his knife, but now he’s staring at himself, 20 years older too, with a mixture of fascination and surprise. 

“Why’d you sneak up like that?” Shiro asks. 

“Thought it’d be funny, sorry,” Older Shiro says, hands out before him in apology. 

The two Keiths are staring at each other still, Older Keith with his arms crossed casually over his chest and a haughty eyebrow raised as he takes in his younger counterpart. Shiro’s Keith still looks ready to fight. Neither of them have spoken.

“Stand down,” Older Shiro tells Keith. “A friend of ours told us they ran into you, literally, and we just wanted to say hi.”

Keith reluctantly, jerkily releases the hilt and stands up straight. He crosses his arms too, mirroring his older self in a way that seems entirely accidental. 

A friend? Oh, the Arusian. 

“What are you two doing here?” Shiro asks. He looks at Older Keith who flicks him a friendly smile before turning his glare back at Keith. It’s like two cats meeting for the first time… Shiro’s surprised they’re not hissing and spitting.

“I think it’s more likely that we’re here than it is for you two to be here, but we’re here for the Festival of Lions. Everyone else gets in tomorrow for the actual event.”

“Festival of Lions?” Keith asks, breaking his stare off to look to Older Shiro.

Shiro nods. “In honor of Voltron, marks the anniversary of the Castle Ship leaving. It’s a good time, are you two staying for it?”

Shiro and Keith look to each other in confusion. What are the chances?

“Uh, we’re sorta… busy,” Keith awkwardly answers after a moment. Shiro’s grateful. He doesn’t want to spend the day at a festival, he wants to spend the day in bed… 

“Sure you are,” Older Keith says, sly and amused. He elbows his Shiro and they exchange looks. Shiro remembers the last thing this Keith had said to him… _If you have something to say to me, just say it._

“Excuse me?” Keith asks, tone sharp. 

Older Keith rolls his eyes. “We got off to a bad start, kiddo. I’m Keith, this is Shiro. Nice to meet you.” He holds his hand out to shake. 

“Yeah, obviously,” Keith says, not uncrossing his arms.

“See, Shiro, obviously you get along with your counterpart and I don’t,” Older Keith says, turning to his Shiro with an eye roll.

“Now, now,” he says, placating. “We were wondering if you two would join us for dinner? Catch up, compare notes, check in, see why you’ve been popping up in our reality over the past year and a half…” He ends the request with a smile but Shiro knows himself (literally) enough to know that it’s too serious an offer to turn down.

“Sure, we’d love to,” Shiro says, hooking an arm around Keith and squeezing him in warning. 

“Are we in trouble?” Keith asks, obstinate. 

“No,” Older Keith snaps back at him, irritated. “But we keep getting reports of our younger selves showing up on resort planets and it raises a lot of questions.”

Both Keiths raise eyebrows at each other and glare. Both Shiros make apologetic eye contact. 

**

Keith tightens his hand around the wood handle of his steak knife and keeps his eyes trained on the older version of him across the table. He has no desire to fight the man, but for some reason he really wants him to know he would if he had to.

But really, he senses no threat at all.

Older Shiro is handsome and kind. He has an impressive gravitas to him that he figures just comes with age. He imagines his own two Shiros seeming so kingly when they’re older and he can picture it perfectly. 

Older Keith is hot, which makes him feel pretty good about himself. He has the rangy energy of an alleycat and the ego of a guy who owns the largest fleet of racing pods in the universe, which of course is exactly who he is. Keith hopes he won’t end up such a stuck-up asshole—

“Listen, kid, the glaring has got to stop,” Older Keith says. He offers him the bread basket and stares him down. “We’re made of the same stuff, same parents, same lion. Technically, we’re brothers in arms. How’s Kolivan where you’re from?”

Keith feels… neutralized a little. He takes a piece of bread and Older Keith smiles. “He’s doing well,” he answers.

“He marry our mom yet?”

“He _what_?” 

“Not yet then. You’ll be really happy for them.” He raises a glass to him in an approximation of a toast and takes a sip. “It’s nice to meet you, I was bummed you didn’t come with the rest of Shiro’s people to meet us.”

Hmph. Keith nods. “It was an overwhelming weekend, I needed to get back to work.”

Older Keith nods back.

“So,” Older Shiro says, cheerful. “What brings you to Arus?”

It has all the charm of a conversational question but Keith still knows this is a security inquiry. 

“Just visiting,” Shiro answers, friendly. These two are going to out-polite each other all night, Keith already knows.

“So, are you two the first known trans-reality couple or what?” Older Keith asks, cutting to the bone.

“None of your business,” Keith answers, fortifying his voice with authority.

Older Keith rolls his eyes. Does Keith roll his eyes that much? He should stop if he does…

“I’m just asking, but two intruders from another reality who wear our faces is indeed my business,” he says, voice crackling with even more authority. “Defenders of the Universe and all.”

Keith feels chastened but his stubbornness wins out. “Speaking of things that are nobody’s business, are _you two_ a couple here?” He takes a sip of his mead.

Bullseye. 

Older Keith gapes at him, caught entirely off-guard by the question. Older Shiro’s cheeks pinken. It’s endearing. Keith is thoroughly satisfied.

“Have you two been to Castle Ship Memorial Park yet?” Older Shiro asks. “It’s beautiful, you should make a point to—”

“So I take that as a no,” Keith says. “Bad breakup? Never happen for you? What was it?”

Shiro elbows Keith in the ribs, surprising him. “Stop,” he warns under his breath.

“I’m just asking, considering they think they can ask us invasive questions—”

“Show some respect,” Older Shiro says, firm. “We’re all friends here. And no, we are not together. We did not ever break up. We’re best friends. Always have been.”

Older Keith looks shuttered when Keith looks back at him. And now… now he feels bad. Now he imagines if another Keith from another reality had marched in and pressed on that bruise and he knows exactly how it would have felt…

“I’m sorry,” Keith says. He should have thought before he reacted. Something about being with these two made him feel like a petulant teenager again. He looks to his own Shiro and sees a disappointed, wry twist to his mouth. “Really, I am, I’m just defensive…”

Shiro looks back at him now.

“We’re not a couple,” Keith answers, holding his eye contact. “Yet? Or… We like spending time together. And I find great comfort in spending time with him, I don’t know… uh. We’re not a threat. We’re not doing anything sneaky or wrong. Just spending time together.” He looks down at the table and fiddles with his napkin. 

Everyone at the table is quiet. A waiter swings by to refill water glasses and speeds away. 

Shiro clears his throat. “Yeah, I… We’re something to each other. This is the only reality we both have coordinates for from our own realities, it’s the only place and time we can be sure to find each other in… Reality hopping is hard work. But if we’re doing harm…” He doesn’t finish the sentence.

If they’re doing harm… Keith hadn’t considered that. If they’re doing harm, they should stop… they know better than to meddle, they know how fragile these systems can be…

“You’re not doing any harm,” Older Keith says, soft. “I think people get a kick out of spotting you two. I know we do.”

Keith feels… awful. He looks up at him and recognizes the pretending-not-to-have-hurt-feelings look on his face. He has the same damn face.

“I’m really sorry,” Keith says to him. 

They hold eye contact. Keith notices then that they’re mirroring each other’s body language right down to the napkin shredding and sorta quirks a smile. Older Keith quirks a smile back. 

“It’s fine, kid.”

The waiter drops by with their food and the tension is broken. They tuck into their dishes in silence for a bit and then conversation slowly starts back up. By the end, they’re comfortable. Three sets of paladins across three realities are discussed. It’s the most bizarre and comfortable Keith has ever felt in his life. Three sets of the people he loves most in the world. Knowing there are countless more sets spread across countless more realities. What an absolute trip.

“You know,” Shiro says. His arm is slung across the back of Keith’s chair, his thumb rubbing a circle on Keith’s shoulder. “Have you two ever considered dating?”

Older Shiro’s eyes widen. Older Keith hides his face by taking a long sip of wine. 

“You’re both single,” Shiro continues. “And old enough to know exactly what you want or don’t want in a relationship. Maybe your wants line up. If I was single and your age, I’d probably try to date my best friend.”

“Your best friend would also be a Keith,” Older Shiro points out as if it’s a good argument.

“Exactly,” Shiro says, grinning at him.

“I know this guy too well,” Older Keith says. Keith doesn’t point out that the statement could be a pro or a con and he also doesn’t point out that he knows he meant it to be a pro dressed like a con. 

Shiro shrugs, demure. “Just asking, just noticing neither of you said no.”

Older Shiro huffs uncomfortably and pulls up the bill on the holodeck at the end of the table to pay the bill, acting completely absorbed in the process.

“You two are such _punks_ ,” Older Keith exclaims. “Congrats on finding each other.”

Older Keith definitely shoots Shiro a soft look and Shiro returns it. Keith will have to ask about that later. 

When they part ways, Older Shiro encourages them to swing by the festival at least long enough to see the other Paladins and the park itself. Older Keith claps Keith on the shoulder and drags him into a brief hug. 

“Have fun, you two. Leave ‘em alone, Shiro,” he says, dragging Older Shiro off. He lazily salutes the both of them and turns to go.

“How are they not dating? I just don’t get it,” Shiro says, gesturing at their backs from afar.

**

They’re both quiet as they walk back through the night market, but not exactly in the same comfortable way as before. Keith has his hands deep in his jacket pockets, Shiro scratches at the stubble along his jaw in thought. Keith’s eyes land on a stall full of jewel bright fruit and slows to a stop to look. Shiro stops next to him.

“It seemed like you and that other Keith had some inside joke or something,” Keith observes, his finger tips touching the skin of an emerald green cluster of berries. 

“How do you mean?” Shiro asks.

“I don’t know, you kept exchanging looks. The way he congratulated us for finding each other, I don’t know…”

“Are you upset?” Shiro asks, uncertain where this is heading.

“No, I’m mostly just embarrassed for being a dick and calling out his unrequited love in front of everyone,” Keith says, capping it off with a frustrated little laugh. He shakes his head. 

Oh. Shiro relaxes a little. “When I met them the first time, right after I’d just met you, we all talked about the usual stuff - our Keith, you, your Paladins, you know. Compared notes. And when we were leaving, he grabbed me and told me that if I had something to say to him, just say it. I think he meant the general “him” of like… you, Keith back home, him, whatever Keith I run into…”

“Oh.”

“So, yeah, I think that’s why he was so amused by us.”

“Oh,” Keith repeats. The vendor running the stall comes over to them and Keith places an order by pointing at the fruits and asking questions. Shiro shifts closer and presses his hand to Keith’s lower back. He’s relieved when Keith leans into him. 

“He definitely loves that Shiro then,” Keith concludes once they’re walking away from the booth with a couple canvas bags of weird fruits. 

“Yeah,” Shiro agrees. 

“Hm.”

“Shiro likes him back,” Shiro assures him. “If they just talk about it, it’ll work out.”

Keith perks up. “Did he say he liked him?”

“No, but I know me,” Shiro says, grinning. “I can read it all over him.”

Keith grins too. “Hope so.”

“Know so.”

Once the cobblestone gives way to grass and a wooden path, Keith has hooked his arm through Shiro’s. The air is full of cricket song and floating orbs of light that seem to be guiding them back toward the cabins.

“How’d your talk with Keith go?” Keith asks softly when their cabin is in sight.

Shiro supposes it’s later, yeah. He blows out a puff of air that makes his bangs flutter. They wordlessly agree to sit on the porch for this conversation. Shiro settles himself on the step and Keith sits hip to hip with him, twining his arm around Shiro’s again. 

He tells him all about it, starting from avoiding Keith and his husband when they boarded the Atlas right up until the firm, friendly exchange of I Love Yous at the end. He feels no need to mince words or protect his pride at all. 

“Ouch,” Keith breathes.

“Yeah. It was rough. But, we’ll be okay.”

“Do you think he would have left Tabor for you?” he asks, rubbing his cheek against Shiro’s shoulder. 

“No,” Shiro says honestly. “And from where I’m sitting—” He turns his head to kiss the top of Keith’s head. “—I wouldn’t have wanted him to.” 

Keith makes a happy sound and lifts his head to kiss Shiro softly. “You sure about that?”

“Yeah, we’d have been miserable ultimately. He and Tabor are honestly perfect together, no matter how much that freaks you out.”

Keith laughs. “I guess I can see it.”

“I don’t want you seeing it too well,” Shiro teases, faux possessive. “How’d your talk with Shiro go?”

Keith sighs loudly, mirroring Shiro’s own response to the question. It makes Shiro smile.

“I asked him point blank if he’d ever had feelings for me and he said yes.”

Shiro feels a flash of jealousy but keeps quiet. 

“He said yes, but that he’d thought it was wrong and didn’t let himself act on it and waited it out until he didn’t like me anymore.”

“Fuck him,” Shiro says, both mad and glad at the same time.

“Nah,” Keith says softly. “It hurt to hear but I’m glad to know. He was basically saying that he felt like his feelings were coming from an unhealthy place and that I wasn’t in the right space for it either which… I guess he’s right. I don’t know, I’ve been thinking about it a lot since we talked… he said something about how he felt like he needed his feelings to be his own and that he needed to own his life without continuing to depend on me.” 

Shiro absorbs that. He compares it to his own experiences to see what lines up and what doesn’t.

“When did he have those feelings for you?” Shiro asks for context.

“They started when we helped him escape quarantine after he crash-landed.”

“Ah,” Shiro says. He hadn’t developed feelings for his Keith then. He hadn’t been able to regulate any of his feelings at all, really. He remembers being wracked with nightmares and being violently touch averse and having panic attacks. He remembers Keith being the only person he could admit any of that to and how grateful he was for the slice of normalcy his friendship provided. Keith had been fiercely protective of him and he’d taken some of the burden of leadership from Shiro while the team came together. 

“He’s totally right,” Keith admits. “I was a disaster… I was an angry orphan with a hero worship crush. I hate that he’s right about it. But I’m glad I wasn’t crazy thinking he had feelings for me… I don’t know.” He huffs a breath. “I can’t be mad at him for making choices for himself, especially not when he had my best interests at heart too.” 

“Still hurts though?” Shiro asks, voice like a whisper.

“Still hurts,” Keith agrees. “Not as bad as it could, though.”

They’re quiet for awhile. Keith shivers a little and presses even closer. Shiro tilts his legs toward Keith. Shiro’s thoughts dart from wanting to comfort Keith to being glad he was doing the work to process and move on from his Shiro to deeply identifying with that other Shiro…

Shiro clears his throat. “It’s interesting,” Shiro says. “What he said about needing to own his own feelings… I’ve felt that way ever since… everything. I’ve felt like I don’t own this body or belong in this life…”

Keith frowns at him and tightens his arm around his. They lean their foreheads together. “I can’t even imagine,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s sorta comforting knowing there’s someone out there who knows exactly how I feel. So thank you.”

Keith laughs. “You two would get along.”

Shiro weighs his options before speaking again. He could make a joke, he could suggest they go in and get naked, he could ask more questions to mine deeper into their dynamic. Or… he could focus on them, he could be authentic and bare… He decides to be bare. 

“I’m sorry part of his feeling that way meant he didn’t let himself fall in love with you, he’s missing out.” 

Keith smiles and tilts his head to kiss Shiro’s cheek. “Thank you.”

“I’m lucky, though, you realize,” he says, voice low and flush with feeling.

“How so?”

Full of butterflies, doubt, and absolute earnestness he answers with: “Because this way, I get to fall in love with you.” 

“You mean that?”

He nods. He pulls Keith’s hand toward him and moves it toward his mouth. Their eyes are locked when Shiro kisses each knuckle, soft and precise. 

“I’m sorry if that’s a bit much,” Shiro half-whispers. 

“ I asked him if it’d be okay if I fell for you…” 

Shiro’s mouth falls open, a flurry of affection and hope swirling in him. Keith laughs gently.

“He said it wasn’t for him to decide which I think is as much of a blessing as I could get…”

“So…” Shiro starts. “What do _you_ decide?”

Keith laughs and casts his eyes down in flirtatious bashfulness. “Well, I guess I’m falling for you too.”

Shiro knows he’s grinning like an absolute fool. He doesn’t care. Keith grins back at him, reaching a new and very charming level of goofiness. 

“Let’s go inside and celebrate this mutual thing, yeah?” Shiro asks.

Keith nods enthusiastically. 

**

“When was the last time you were with someone before me?” Keith asks. He traces the curve of Shiro’s chest with his thumb. 

He desperately wants to talk and _also_ desperately wants to lick every inch of Shiro’s skin. 

“With someone how?” Shiro murmurs. Keith can hear the low-simmering arousal in his voice and ghosts his hand down his chest and stomach to stoke it. 

“Sex,” Keith says plainly. He rests his hand heavily over the lowest part of Shiro’s stomach.

Shiro’s breath hitches, he smiles knowingly and sets his bionic hand over Keith’s. 

“It’s been awhile,” he confesses, turning his head to look at him directly. “A year before you, maybe.”

“Who was it with?” Keith asks. His whole body is warm and he feels the right kind of lightheaded. Even just this conversation is making his breath shallow. Sex is a hell of a drug.

Shiro laughs, bashful. “We were on New Altea for their equivalent of Mardi Gras, everyone was drinking a lot. I woke up with an Altean named Mak or something like that.”

“A hook-up,” Keith teases. Shiro nods. “And when did you last date someone?”

“Oh, not in a very long time. Not since Adam.” 

Oh. Keith nudges closer and seals his lips to Shiro’s cheek. He mumbles an apology.

“It’s okay,” Shiro says, squeezing his hand. “We were never that serious.”

“Oh, you two were on the road to marriage in my reality.”

“Adam and I were great together but we never got far along enough to consider getting married before we split up over Kerberos,” Shiro explains. “Change of subject?” 

Keith kisses him and feels his lips move into a smile. 

“I feel like, looking how you do, you’d be having a lot of sex and dating lots of people,” Keith says, course correcting back to the previous conversation. 

“I’d assume the same of you,” Shiro says earnestly. 

Keith smiles, allowing himself to feel the flattery Shiro means it to be.

“I’m not big on hooking up,” Shiro says, somehow flirty. He pushes Keith’s hand further down his body. Keith’s blood sings in response to the heat of him, to the coarse curls under his palm. 

Idly, he thinks he wants to taste him. He moves his hand the rest of the way and takes Shiro, half-hard, in his hand. Shiro’s hand slides up to loosely circle Keith’s wrist as if to relinquish control. 

He’s struck again by the intimacy of this. Of knowing how Shiro wants to be touched and being the one he wants to be touched by. Of touching him and eliciting response. The incredible privilege of knowing the cues his body provides and being able to speak the language those cues are in. Shiro’s thighs spread just a little more, his hips shift upward, his mouth falls open, he turns to press his forehead against Keith’s. 

Keith moves his hand on him, feeling him harden, listens to his breath. He kisses him on the mouth and breathes in more than air. Keith kisses his way down his neck and tastes more than skin. He loves feeling Shiro’s pulse on his lips. He loves his body heat. He scrapes his teeth lightly over a nipple, feels and hears Shiro’s breath hitch and get more shallow. He sucks and licks and kisses Shiro’s stomach until both of Shiro’s hands tangle in his hair. 

“Keith,” he breathes. 

Keith answers by moving lower and inhaling the heady, concentrated scent of him. 

And this is something Keith has absolutely never done before. He’s never had it done to him either. When Shiro and Keith meet up, they tend to kiss until the intense need to fuck takes over. They haven’t had as many hours to explore and get creative, they’ve just had _need_. 

Keith’s _need_ right now is this.

He lets his body act, it seems to know what it wants. 

“Keith,” Shiro says again, hand tightening in his hair just a little. “Are you sure?”

He nods. “Is this okay?” he asks, voice thick and breathy.

“Yeah, yes,” Shiro breathes. 

Settled in between Shiro’s legs, full to brimming of a feeling that must be love, Keith takes him into his mouth. He does what he wants, he does what he thinks would feel good. He knows it’s inexpert and sloppy and that it totally shows his inexperience, but he doesn’t care. Shiro moans and writhes and whispers encouragement. He keeps his hips from moving too much. He gives him a warning when he’s about to come and Keith figures he should heed that this time around. And his jaw sorta aches.

After, he flops next to Shiro and covers his face with his hands and laughs. 

“Are you laughing?” Shiro asks, breathless.

“Yeah.”

“Why?” His voice lilts up, incredulous.

“I don’t know!”

The real answer is because he’s giddy and inexperienced and ridiculous and he feels absolutely comfortable being that way with him. 

“Was that okay?” Keith asks.

“You just went from being the absolute hottest minx in the world to being a huge dork, you know that right?” Shiro asks, rolling onto his side and wrapping Keith in his arms. “It was great, Keith. Stop laughing.”

“I’m just… happy,” Keith says between laughs. “It was great?”

“It was great, thank you.”

“Are you thanking me for oral sex?”

“Did you call it oral sex?” Shiro teases back, laughing now too.

“That’s what it is, Takashi.”

“Well then, that’s what I’m thanking you for.”

“Was I really the hottest minx in the world?”

“Definitely. Call me Takashi again.”

"Takashi,” Keith mumbles against his lips before kissing him hard. “Call me the hottest minx in the world again.”

“See, now I think you’re making fun of me for saying that.”

“Takashi,” Keith says again, lowering his voice and smoothing his hands over Shiro’s ribs. “I like you a lot.”

“I like you a lot too,” Shiro says, matching his voice. But then he can’t fight a smile when he adds: “Hottest minx in the world.”

“I look forward to getting better at _blow jobs_ with you, Takashi.”

“Sir, I believe you mean _oral sex_.”

Keith pinches Shiro’s ribs hard for that.

**

Keith wakes up with Shiro’s head under his chin and an impressive puddle of drool on his chest. Shiro snores softly, dead asleep. It’s cute.

The drool is less cute and mostly kinda gross but he’s shared a bed with Kosmo enough to be used to it. 

Keith rubs Shiro’s strong, muscled back and buries his nose in his hair and smiles. He’s never felt this way. He’s never even given himself the chance to feel this way. God, is it worth it.

Shiro’s snores grow even fainter, his breath shortens. Keith runs his fingers through his hair and behind his ears and Shiro murmurs in response. 

“Oh, gross, I’m sorry,” he croaks, discovering the drool immediately upon waking.

“It’s okay,” Keith murmurs. “I had your dick in my mouth last night.”

Shiro laughs the word “true” and wipes the drool away with a corner of the sheet. And then he kisses the hollow of Keith’s throat and wraps his hands around his waist.

It’s effortless with Shiro. Going from laying together to kissing to sex. Keith feels fluid and comfortable and known by the process. Whether it’s hard and energetic or soft and passionate or desperate and rushed, their bodies just work together. And this morning, it’s soft and passionate. Slow, long, loving. Keith feels unmade and put back together by it. 

Which makes the _after_ , when Keith is making fun of Shiro for wanting to order more goddamn chocolate mousse for breakfast, so perfect. 

Shiro, legs crossed sitting in bed, happily eats his room service mousse for breakfast while also stealing food from Keith’s plate of totally normal (for Arus) breakfast items. Keith cuts up a ruby red fruit from the night market and dumps half of it into Shiro’s ramekin. 

“Should we make an appearance at the festival?” Shiro asks. 

Keith groans.

Shiro smiles.

“I have to do enough Paladin appearances in my own reality,” Keith whines.

“I hear that,” Shiro says, raising a cup of tea. “No festival, then.”

So they do everything but. They shower together and get dressed and take off in the opposite direction from where all the signs are pointing and all the other guests are heading. They spend the day exploring a near-deserted village on the other side of the trees. They bowl at an Earth themed bowling alley playing a weird mix of pop songs from every decade with no rhyme or reason to the order. They head back to the cabins and swim in the empty pool even though it’s a little too cold for it. When they go back inside, there’s a message from Older Keith and Shiro teasing them for not showing up but inviting them to visit New Altea anytime they’re around. 

And before they realize, it’s almost time to check out and go. Keith frowns at his beeping watch and Shiro wraps his arms around him. 

“When can we meet next?” Shiro asks. He sits on the edge of the bed and pulls Keith down into his lap. 

Keith pulls his calendar up in the air in front of them and scrolls through it. 

“The Blades keep you busy,” Shiro observes softly, mouth against Keith’s shoulder.

“Yeah.”

“You still enjoy it?”

“Yeah,” Keith sighs. He comes upon a free week four months from then. “Oh.” A whole week? He looks at the events surrounding, trying to see what could possibly lead to him having a week off. 

But it’s just pure luck. One day, he lands at the hub for a meeting and over a week later, he flies out to tour the first few recommissioned bases. Plain old downtime.

“I have a week,” Keith says, looking over his shoulder at Shiro.

Shiro shifts him off his lap to pull up his own calendar, the boxes of the months flashing by as he rapidly scrolls to the right dates. 

“Oh,” Shiro breathes, sad. He has a couple days blocked off right smack dab in the middle. Keith frowns. “Oh!” Shiro says again, delighted. “That’s the wedding.”

“Yeah, you can’t miss that,” Keith says, burying his disappointment. 

“Be my date?” Shiro asks, grabbing his hand. 

Keith’s response dies in his throat. He wants to say yes. He wants to see Allura and Lance get married. He doesn’t want to see that in a reality that isn’t his own when his own doesn’t have Allura anymore. He wants to see the other Paladins. He doesn’t want to stir the pot with the other Keith or the judgment of the others when they see the two of them together… But he wants to say yes. He wants to see Shiro’s reality. He wants to see him in his element.

Shiro waits patiently for him to work through it, not offering comforting commentary or begging or giving him an out. 

“Would that be okay?” Keith asks.

Shiro thinks about it before he answers. “Yeah,” he settles on. “I’ll talk to them, get them used to the idea. Allura would love it if you came. She always asks how you are.”

“It might be hard…” Keith says, hoping the myriad of reasons why is clearly implied.

“I know,” Shiro says. “It’s up to you.”

He wants to say yes more than he’s afraid of it. “Okay, yes.”

Shiro grins and twines their fingers together and brings Keith’s hand up to his mouth to kiss it. Keith grins but feels his heart sink when he remembers the question he’d needed answered. It seems null and void now considering their conversation the night before but now that he’s going to be in Shiro’s world, probably meeting the other Keith and everyone…. He’ll kick himself if he doesn’t get the answer now and it comes back to bite him in the ass. He takes a deep breath and steels himself.

“I was going to ask you…” Keith says, looking away from him when uncertainty threatens to take over. “If you were just projecting how you feel about your Keith onto me…?” He doesn’t know exactly how to phrase it and he’s too embarrassed to take the time to figure it out. 

Shiro’s breath is warm on his hand and then he’s lowering it and Keith regrets asking. He looks back at him, wanting to be brave about it, and Shiro’s face surprises him. It’s open, so painfully open, but unflinching and strong too. 

“I’ve been asked that too,” he says after a minute of looking at Keith. Keith’s shoulders relax . “I’ve asked myself that, to be fair. But no. I’m not projecting. I’d never string you along like that. I think that would only end up hurting both of us a lot…” 

Relief. 

Keith is _relieved_. 

Keith is skeptical by nature, but Shiro has always been his blindspot. Shiro or Kuron or Sven, doesn’t matter. The difference here is that Keith used his head with this one. He didn’t let himself blindly trust him or even like him at first. It was his heart that had convinced him to. His heart alongside this man. Both his Shiros are lionhearted and true, but this is the Shiro he can be bare with and this is the Shiro who offers his bleeding heart right back to him. 

“I won’t hurt you,” Keith promises. He squeezes Shiro’s hand and brings it up to his mouth this time. 

“I’m inclined to believe you,” Shiro says, quiet. “But can I ask that question back?”

Keith nods. “You can. I’ve been asked it a lot too and… no, I’m not projecting. How I feel about you is all your fault.” He smiles a little. Shiro gently presses his knuckles forward to swipe his chin. 

“I don’t want to go home,” Shiro says. 

“Me neither.”

“Run away with me?”

“Someday,” Keith says and he knows he means it. It’s a terrifying thing to _say and mean_ , but he likes the rush this terror gives him. 

“Someday,” Shiro agrees, hearing it for the promise it is. 

“I think this chat program will help,” Keith says, reaching his free hand to take his tablet out of his pocket. 

“Can we test it?” Shiro asks. “Message each other right after we leave and come back if it doesn’t work? Make a hundred plans to see each other again? Am I being the lamest right now?”

Keith laughs, giddy in the face of someone who so eagerly wants to see him and giddy about eagerly wanting to see that someone too. “Sure,” he says. “But only if it doesn’t work, I don’t have enough fuel and I have to get back…”

Shiro pouts. “Deal.”

They check out and get to their ships. They stand between them and kiss for as long as they can, arms around each other. Keith feels a tremor of nerves when he steps away and onto the ramp leading up to his ship. What if the chat program doesn’t work? He’d just assumed it would. What if it was another four months desperately missing him and not being able to tell him that? 

“It’ll work,” Shiro calls to him from his own ramp. “Have faith!” 

He’s sore and mournful as he passes through the rift. He turns the ship around to face the entry point again just in case. He holds his tablet in his hands and isn’t sure what to type. The program says Shiro is online but he’s not sure it’s even reliable… but then the tablet pings. 

_S: Miss you already._

Keith’s heart soars. The four months that had stretched like eternity before them rapidly shrinks back down to size. He never should have doubted Pidge…

_K: Miss you too.  
S: Holy shit, it works!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My biggest pet peeve ever with editing fics since using Pages has been that IDK WHY BUT it eats my line breaks sometimes... so now I use Scrivener and life is better already. So here's my shoutout to Scrivener.


	7. A Kabor Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An alternative POV chapter from our lesser fave, Other Reality Keith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can totally skip this chapter, I'm uploading another chapter immediately after this for your reading pleasure if you don't want to read this non-canon Keith/OC content. This is a very self-indulgent chapter in a very self-indulgent fic because I slipped and fell headfirst into shipping these guys really hard. Whoops?
> 
> Other Reality Keith and his husband hash some things out in the fallout of the Shiro and Keith conversation. :) This may do some work to salvage this particular Keith for you, because writing this sure did that for me.

_Another Reality_

Keith just walks. Breathing, putting one foot in front of the other, keeping his expression neutral in case anyone passes by. 

_”I’d have hated you for it in the long run.”_

He feels his face shift at the memory but he shutters it instantly.

Shiro has always kindly criticized him. It started with flight tips, homework correction, and telling him not to mouth off at instructors. It’d grown into leadership guidance and slight attitude adjustments and telling him not to mouth off at Lance. When the war stopped, so had the counsel. Keith hadn’t even noticed. 

_”You can’t have everything you want and everyone you love under your control. You don’t get to have everything you want.”_

It feels like Keith hasn’t actually heard the real Shiro in ages. His words stung, acutely, and still do. 

He’s not even wrong. With a swell of sorrow, Keith gently presses the call button for the elevator at the end of the hall. He wants to keep punching at it with his finger but he restrains himself. He wants to be back on the main level and back in his room as soon as possible, he wants to fall apart. 

Would he have chosen Shiro? Did he just say that to make him happy?

Because while Shiro always offered gentle advice, Keith always offered comfort and protection. Well, not always. Since Kerberos, though. 

Before Kerberos, Keith was the kid brother who worshipped him like a hero. When Shiro’s mission failed, he was an absolute disaster who flunked out of his pilot program. And in the intervening year, his mom beefed up his Blade training and his father had him busting ass as a volunteer firefighter for discipline and work ethic. Really, both of them just tired him the hell out. His mom taking off on a mission and disappearing really ignited the fire for Keith to take off into space to find her. Shiro crash-landing back on Earth had two great effects: the crushing emptiness of a life without Takashi Shirogane was over and he suddenly had an ironclad reason to take off.

Keith feels like he aged a decade in that week. He’d expected a heroic big brother and return to form, but he got a shattered Shiro instead. He’d wanted nothing more than to give him the space to heal and the support to grow. And they gained a team, all of them less experienced than them. Keith shielded Shiro from them and them from Shiro as needed. Keith had to temper his anger and step up as a leader. He spent hours talking softly with Shiro, tucked into a window in a hallway on the Castle Ship. He grew up, he improved. Voltron had made him a better person. 

Or so he thought.

He knows he’s picky, he knows he can be demanding, he knows he likes to feel in control. But is he really that suffocating? Did he shove Shiro away from him by being so insufferable? 

Shiro had never spoken to him so harshly… had he pushed him to that? 

Keith smiles when people address him, his political outer skin holding strong. He tells Hunk to tell everyone else he may be late to dinner but to save him a spot anyway. He looks for Tabor.

“Anyone seen my husband?” he asks Allura and Lance, barely slowing down.

They shake their heads and shrug apologetically. At least that means he’s most likely not working. 

He turns a corner and takes a flight of stairs and starts jogging down yet another long fucking hallway. He slams his palm against the display beside his door and it scans his biorhythms and the door slides open.

Tabor is in his undershirt, shrugging back into his jacket in a way that betrays his exhaustion. He hasn’t been sleeping well, Keith worries about it. He worries about it even now as his own problems are starting to make him feel rattled. 

“There you are,” Tabor says, turning his way and smiling. Warmth flows through Keith and his lip quivers. Tabor’s smile fades in concern. “You okay, honey?”

_Honey_ is a term of endearment that Keith taught him because it sorta loosely translated to the Galra word Tabor liked to whisper against his ear. Tabor decided he liked the sound of it better. Whenever he uses it, Keith feels safe. 

He shakes his head to Tabor’s question and moves forward. Tabor opens his arms, pulls him in, and hooks his chin over Keith’s head. Keith shoves his arms under his unbuttoned jacket and curls them around his waist.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, deep voice vibrating through his chest. 

“Shiro and I had a fight, can we talk about it later?” Keith says, voice muffled by Tabor’s body and the flaps of his thick coat. 

“Sure,” he says, tilting his head down to kiss the top of Keith’s head. Keith lifts his head to press his forehead to Tabor’s, a gesture he’s always seen between his parents but came to learn was all Galra. The first time he’d done it to Tabor, he’d smiled for ages. 

Keith leaves Tabor to finish getting ready for dinner. He sits at the cafe table crammed between the couch and the kitchenette and picks at his cuticles. He aches to think about Shiro in love with another version of him. He’s not sure why it hurts. 

Tabor emerges from the en suite bathroom with his coat buttoned up to the chin and his white hair slicked back with a palm full of water. It’ll fluff out as it dries and the downiness of it will catch and diffuse the light from overhead. Keith used to think he glowed from within until he saw him in the dark, outside of his combat uniform. 

He still glows, Keith thinks.

“Stop,” Tabor says, placing a heavy hand over both of Keith’s as he squeezes past. 

Keith’s picked his thumb enough to bleed. Tabor hands him a towel from the kitchenette and opens the fridge. 

“We should have some of that wine from Arus later,” Tabor says. 

Keith staunches the bleeding with the corner of the towel and nods. 

“You seem like you could use a drink,” Tabor says, clearly trying to prompt him to talk. Keith nods again. “What did you and Shiro fight about?”

Keith sighs. “A lot.” He sets the towel down and pulls himself to his feet.

“Do you want to skip dinner?” Tabor asks. 

Yes. He gives Tabor a small smile that says: yes but you know we have to go. Tabor smiles sadly back and ducks his head to kiss Keith’s cheek. 

“We can excuse ourselves early.”

“Okay.”

Keith snags his jacket from the hook on the back of the door as they leave and buttons it up as they walk. They sit with the Paladins, minus Shiro, and Keith keeps his expression neutral but kind and doesn’t talk much but he pays attention. Tabor’s hand lays heavy and comforting on Keith’s thigh under the table while dessert is served. Tabor turns down his serving because he doesn’t like human sweets. Keith turns his down because he doesn’t want to pretend to eat it.

Shiro doesn’t show up at all.

Maybe what hurts about Shiro loving another Keith is just… what it means to be the Keith he is. Is he less than the other Keith? Will he lose his best friend to the other Keith’s bed? Is there a potential he’s mourning? Is Shiro hiding more from him? How in love is he? How did he fall in love with someone without Keith noticing? Is someone else going to be Shiro’s champion?

Tabor’s voice cuts through the spiraling questions when he says, “We’ve been kept so busy, I think tonight we’ll forgo drinks and turn in early. Keith?” 

Keith feels a wave of love for his husband. He loves their unspoken agreement to always provide a tactful way of getting out of things. The “ _Oh, Keith has a terrible headache and a long proposition to write in the morning, we should go_ ”s and the “ _Tabor, you have a call scheduled with Kolivan that you have to get to_ ”s and the secret codes that preclude them. 

Pidge tilts her head at Keith, eyes too-knowing for his own good. He smiles at her and rubs his hand through her hair to mess it all up on his way past her. She swats at him and curses but he knows he only delayed the inevitable questions for a little bit.

Back in their visitor’s quarters, Keith strips out of the day’s clothes and Tabor follows behind to hang them up while Keith starts the shower. 

“Care to join?” Keith asks, because he usually does. 

“I showered before you came in,” he answers. Keith raises an eyebrow at him. “The doctor suggested I tire myself out so I hit the training deck,” Tabor confesses. Keith frowns. “I know I said we’d go together, we still can!” Keith pouts. “Oh, shush. I’ll pour the wine and get the couch warmed up for us.”

“Fine,” Keith says, hearing the tart flirtation in his own voice. 

After, Keith wishes he hadn’t requested this conversation topic for the night. He’d rather bury his nose in Tabor’s neck and run his hands all over him and tire him out his own way. They hadn’t had much time to themselves on the Atlas, it sucked to sully this time with talk of Shiro but…

“What’d you fight with Shiro about?” Tabor asks after Keith has kicked his legs up across Tabor’s lap and had a couple sips of the Arusian wine. 

Keith lets the back of his head hit the arm of the couch and starts from the beginning. Well, a little earlier than the beginning. He tells him how Shiro had been avoiding him since they’ve been on the Atlas and how he heard from one of the crew members that he’d be off-vessel for the weekend and how he wanted to get Shiro to tell him about it. 

Tabor’s eyebrows raise and stay raised when Keith recounts the part about Shiro sleeping with the other Keith. Keith watches his face carefully, combing the expression for meaning. When he can’t discern anything other than surprise, he reaches out and pokes his jaw, something they do in private when they can’t read each other. 

“What are your thoughts?” he asks. 

“I don’t know,” Tabor says thoughtfully. “It’s interesting.”

“I asked him if he’d ever had feelings for me…” Keith says, looking into his near empty wine glass and swirling the contents.

Tabor makes no remark.

“He said he used to.”

He waits for Tabor to have a reaction but his previous surprise just melts back into his neutral expression.

“Isn’t that wild?” Keith asks. 

Tabor shrugs. “I thought it was kind of obvious.”

“How?” Keith demands.

“He’s always cared for you, I could sense that there was something to it. He never seemed like he was going to speak on it, so…”

“Well no, no he didn’t.”

“Are you upset that he didn’t?” Tabor asks, and now he knows he treading in dangerous waters even if Tabor’s tone belies nothing.

“No.” But hadn’t he told Shiro he should have told him? He stares into his wine some more before draining the glass and setting it down.

Tabor shifts, sitting more upright. Keith moves his legs and plants his feet on the ground. “I think the worse part of the fight…” He tracks the fight in his head, trying to remember the exact progression to make it go down easier for both of them but he doesn’t know that there’s any salvaging it. “Uh, was when I told him he should have told me how he felt.”

Tabor stays silent even though Keith wishes he would speak.

“He was mad that I said that, I think. He asked me when it would have even mattered.” Keith’s turn to fall silent. Shiro’s condemnation of his words being hurtful to both him and Tabor come back to haunt him and he knows he’s right. He also knows he’d rather communicate with his husband than hold these secrets away from him. “I told him,” he says after Tabor doesn’t prompt him to continue. “That I would have dropped everything for him up until we were engaged.”

Tabor makes a soft, hurt sound and clears his throat. 

The full weight of the words hit Keith now that he says them again. He thinks of everything that led up to his and Tabor’s engagement and wonders what the fuck he had been thinking.

“He called me out though, he said it would have just been pity and that I didn’t feel that way about him and that it was shitty of me to say to him and that it was shitty to you, and he was right. He was totally right.”

“Yeah…” Tabor finally says, throat tight and eyes trained on the carpet off to the side. 

“He said I’m controlling and can’t have everyone I want where I want them, or something, I don’t know. He was right though. I am. And I can’t. And it was shitty to say…”

Tabor would be more than justified if he just got up and left. If he told Keith to go fuck himself. If he yelled or stormed around. But he stays unmoving and unspeaking. He seems to absorb it and process it and let it steep. Keith doesn’t speak again, not wanting to spook him, but he uncertainly takes hold of Tabor’s hand and twines their fingers together. He holds his breath until Tabor squeezes his hand back.

“Would you have really dropped everything if he told you how he felt before we were engaged?” Tabor asks.

“No,” Keith answers, knowing that to be true.

“So what you said was manipulative.”

“Yes.”

“Why’d you say it then?”

“I wanted him to feel better.”

“Did that work?”

“No,” Keith says with a sad laugh. “No, it made it all worse.”

Tabor shakes his head minutely. “You don’t think you told him that to pull focus away from the Keith he’s falling in love with and back to yourself?”

Keith rears back as if he’s actually been hit. He sure feels the sting. Tabor watches him closely, eyes narrowed and shoulders tense. Keith wrings his hands and breathes through the desire to lash out in pain. Because Tabor is right. Keith hates the feeling of looking in a mirror and seeing something ugly. He looks at Tabor and tries to convey as much of this as possible with his face alone because his voice is gone.

For a few minutes, all Keith can hear is the whisper of the air ducts. 

“Was there a point in our relationship where Shiro could have taken you away from me?” Tabor asks, voice pitched low. 

“I don’t think so.”

“Can you uh, for both of us, maybe think about that? And offer an update or correction? Because…” he trails off. “Maybe it’s foolish to want a more exact answer, maybe it’d just hurt me more…”

“Tabor, I’m sorry…”

“It just—” He stops abruptly and shakes his head. “Are we okay?” he asks, his tone softer. He asks Keith this question, in this tone, every once in awhile. Sometimes Keith’s the one to ask. When they haven’t had the time to talk and connect. When they haven’t had sex in awhile. When Keith is in a bad mood. When Tabor’s been in a bad mood. It’s always served as shorthand for: “let’s talk about whatever we need to talk about.” It can translate into “do we need to talk to someone?” or “do we need a weekend away?” or “cancel your afternoon meetings and be naked when I get home.” It’s never sounded so… sad. Like Tabor actually doesn’t know some semblance of the answer. 

“We’re great,” Keith answers honestly. “I’m just a big asshole.”

Tabor evaluates the tone and nods, looking a little relieved. “I know I probably shouldn’t be focusing on this, but can you please…” Answer his question. 

“I’m going to do some deep thinking about it, for both of my favorite people,” Keith promises. He edges closer, hungry for Tabor’s body heat. He’s so relieved when Tabor leans back and lets Keith collapse against his chest. “Any input on Shiro and other Keith?”

“I think you should be happy for him, I am.”

Damn. 

“You don’t think this whole thing is weird?”

“It’s all very weird, darling, but Shiro deserves a good relationship. If you value your friendship, I think you should be willing to be supportive. Figure out your feelings about it, talk to him like an adult, and move on.”

Keith sighs. “You’re right.”

“Are you jealous of that other Keith?” Tabor asks, a kinder and more teasing lilt to his voice. “You have nothing to be jealous of. Shiro is a logical man.”

“I’m not jealous, I’m just not sure how I feel about it.”

“I think that’s fair.”

“Can you believe Keith and his Tabor aren’t in love there? I can’t imagine it,” Keith says to be sweet, kissing Tabor’s neck.

That makes Tabor smile. “That Tabor knows Keiths are pains in the ass, smart man.” But he presses a kiss to Keith’s temple when he says it. 

“Are you questioning our marriage?” Keith asks, vulnerable in the circle of his arms. He needs to hear him say how he feels… 

Tabor sighs deeply, the movement of his chest making Keith rise and fall with it. “No, I feel quite secure in our marriage. What is it you humans say, actions speak louder than words?” Keith nods. “I find that to be true.” He tightens his hold on Keith as if to prove it. 

And then there’s always Tabor’s partner bond. Galrans are a mate for life type species, similar to humans and swans and wolves. For humans, it’s a more conditional thing. For Galrans, the partner bond is deeper than law and emotion. It’s untangled from spontaneity and infatuation. It’s a gut instinct and the absolute determining factor in continuing on into marriage. To date someone of a different species, without the near-biological impulse is to take a great risk. But Keith, half-Galran as he is, had felt something deeper than love for Tabor too. Not quite a partner bond, physiologically speaking, but the kind of love humans point to when they talk about soulmates. 

He pulls back just enough to kiss Tabor. He runs his fingers over the ridges of his high cheekbones and back over his ears and into his hair and holds his head in his hands as he keeps on kissing him. Tabor has every reason to push him away tonight, but he melts further into the couch until he’s on his back and Keith is on top of him. 

“I’m sorry,” Keith whispers against his lips. “I’ll fix it.”

“I trust that you will,” he murmurs. 

“You should be so angry with me,” Keith says, pulling back to look at him.

“I’m not the happiest I’ve ever been,” he responds, honest but gentle. “But I forgive you.”

Tabor used to be infuriatingly literal. Keith used to hate him and want to fight him at every turn and all Tabor had to do to really rile him up was _speak_ in his unemotional, unfiltered way. He’s learned to appreciate it. In turn, Tabor learned how to joke and infuse his words with meaningful tone. Keith knows how much he loves him even when he’s admitting he’s not happy. 

Keith knows he doesn’t have to respond or push the conversation further when Tabor’s strong hand makes its path from Keith’s ribs down to his thigh. With one easy pull, Keith’s legs are around him and thought flickers out. 

**

The next day, Atlas is clearly on weekend mode. The holodeck interface in the room flashes the day’s operating schedule to them and includes information for the pool, pod access, cooking classes, and group yoga. Tabor heaves a sigh of relief when he sees it and hides his face against Keith’s shoulder before falling back into a light sleep. 

Keith feels smugly responsible for how well Tabor slept. Which dampens his regret about the previous night’s conversation. A little. 

Tabor snores softly and Keith thinks about the first time they slept together. In the few minutes before absolute horror at his own weakness, Keith had taken a waking second to think of how soft and sweet the sound was coming from such a large, war-faring alien. 

At what point could Keith have run into someone else’s arms? Certainly before that when they fought so much Kolivan threatened to kick them both out of the organization. 

They’d failed a high-difficulty extraction simulator by having a screaming match in the middle of enemy territory. Kolivan told Keith that if it wasn’t for Krolia, he’d be out on his ass. Keith can only assume Tabor got a similar warning, subbing in his own parents and adding a thick layer of guilt about how they hadn’t died in the line of action so their son could be kicked out in disgrace. 

They laugh about it now. They both know now that the spark of hate was just the flip side of fierce, furious attraction. 

And maybe someone could have slipped in before the mission that changed it for them. The night before Keith left Voltron to be briefed for the exact extraction they’d been training for when they failed. If Shiro had told him he loved him then, he knows he would have fallen into bed with him and done anything he wanted. It would have been fear. But it also would have been Shiro, his best friend and closest confidant. It would have been good.

But when that mission started to go south and Tabor was trapped in an air lock of a ship about to blow, Keith thrust their target into Antok’s arms and threw himself at the warped portal to free him.

The blast had thrown them both into the side of the Marmora ship and Keith got the most eviscerating yell down of his life from both Kolivan and Antok afterward. 

Tabor was supposed to have died if that was for the best of the organization. Keith didn’t think it would have been. He’s never regretted saving him, not once. 

Not even when, after an hour long verbal beat down, Keith staggered into the hall and Tabor shoved him against the wall, teeth bared. Tabor yelled, echoing some of what the other two had said, but he faltered where they wouldn’t have.

“It was my time, I have served the Blades of Marmora to my end, and you took that from me. Why did you take that from me?”

Though Tabor’s arm was heavy across Keith’s windpipe, he pushed against him and spit out: “I wasn’t done fighting.” 

Tabor released him. Keith was about to ask why the Blades all thought this shindig was a vehicle for assisted suicide when Tabor kissed him.

And kissed him. 

And kissed him some more.

And Keith begged him to take him to his room. 

And they woke up the next morning embarrassed, refusing to look each other in the eye. Keith struggled into his body suit and grabbed his underwear off the floor and ran for it. Right back to his pod and right back to the castle ship. He’d needed to spend half a day in the healing pod when the injuries from the mission caught up to him.

He thinks maybe then, when he felt his most raw. He’d never been one to want a relationship or to get heartsick over anyone. But something about all of that had made him hungry for sharing a bed and for kissing. If Shiro had told him how he felt then, he’d have kissed him and held him and promised him everything. Which in hindsight is pretty pathetic, but the happily married Keith he has become can understand the urge. 

Tabor shifts behind him and his arm tightens a little. “What are you thinking about?” he murmurs, like he’s only half awake.

“Our first time,” he says honestly.

Tabor huffs a laugh. “A good memory.”

“Mostly,” Keith agrees. He doesn’t need to remind him about the hallway thing. They’d talked about it a couple weeks after it happened and have since left it alone.

A week after, Keith had been moody and waiting for the next disaster to strike either Voltron or the Blades when he got a message. It read: “Hi. This is Tabor.” 

“Hey, how’s it going?” Keith had answered.

Even then, someone could have swept Keith off his feet. But his hungry, desperate want for someone to kiss started to change then. It started to solidify and clarify until Keith saw it was Tabor he wanted. 

“Do you want to cook and stay in?” Tabor asks, waking up more. “Or are you dying to do group yoga?”

Keith laughs and rolls over to face him. “I want to kick your ass on the training deck, but other than that… we can do yoga here.”

The second he says it, he knows Tabor can’t detect any sexual allusions from it based on context alone. He looks confused but game. 

“There’s a thing called tantric yoga, it’s all about sex stuff, forget it,” Keith laughs. He pulls Tabor’s face in for a kiss. 

“And you think my references are bad,” Tabor teases.

Once they make it out of bed, Tabor happily takes up the mantle of chef and Keith watches from the couch. It’s almost unbelievable that this man had so desperately wanted to die on a mission. This man who wants to be a father and who wants to build a thriving Daibazaal and who sings while making breakfast…

After a week of talking and discovering the intricacies of Tabor’s sense of humor and conversationally skimming over his kinder traits, Keith asked. He figured he’d might as well be as blunt as Tabor could be: “Why had you wished I’d left you to die?” 

Tabor took a long time to respond, but sometimes that was the case. If he was busy, if he was asleep, if his attention span had left him. But when the response came, it was a paragraph. He told Keith how his fathers had died and how he hadn’t seen them in years because the Blades kept them all scattered. He told Keith he’d grown up knowing he’d die a Blade. He said it would be an honorable death. He said he was tired and alone and he didn’t see an end to the war. 

In a long pause between him sending it and Keith reading it and trying to put words together, he’d added: “But if you want to keep fighting, I’ll keep fighting.”

All Keith could say was: “I want to see you again.”

Keith wonders if that was the last time someone could have edged in between them. When all they were was two people deeply curious about how much they’d come to care about each other. 

“What are you thinking about?” Keith asks Tabor when he sets two plates down on the cafe table and beckons Keith to join him. 

“Wondering what tantric yoga could possibly be.”

Keith laughs. “Did you sleep well?” he asks, reaching out to hold his hand across the table.

“Yes, honey.”

“Was it the sex?”

“It was probably the sparring,” he teases. 

“Aw, c’mon.”

“And what are _you_ thinking about?” Tabor counters, his free hand coming up to tap Keith’s jaw.

“How we used to fight all the time and how fast it changed.”

“You were just so frustrating!” Tabor says. It’s a familiar conversation, one they often slip into and flirt their way through and end with a good laugh and a sweet kiss. “Always disobeying orders and acting like you ran the place.”

“And you were such a boring goody two-shoes. At least you were hot, god forbid if you weren’t.”

“And then you had to go and ruin what we had by giving me hope, huh?” Tabor says, veering to the softer than usual branch of the conversation. 

“I love you,” Keith says, ending it unconventionally. He does, he loves him. 

“I love you too, eat your breakfast. I want an even match later and you’ll need the energy.”

Keith rolls his eyes but picks up his fork anyway.

**

Keith hits the ground with a hard OOF and it takes him a full thirty seconds to get his breath back. Tabor looks at him quizzically, assessing whether he should be concerned or not. Keith takes the opportunity to kick his legs out from underneath him.

He presses a knee into Tabor’s chest and grins down at him. Tabor laughs, hands coming up to curl around his leg. Keith braces himself to be tossed aside, but Tabor’s fingers just continue climbing up his leg. 

“Not fair,” Keith says, cheeks heating up. Tabor huffs a laugh. Keith bites down a smile and yanks his leg away, rolling onto his back.

Tabor follows, his body gracefully flowing with Keith’s movement. He smirks like he knows exactly where Keith’s head is. And he does, of course. He’s about to crawl between Keith’s legs and press their bellies together, but Keith fakes him out and rolls away and onto his feet.

“You’re getting predictable, old man,” Keith taunts.

“Am I?” he asks, blasé. He stands up with an elegant spring and puts his hands on his hips. 

He’s playing bored. Keith looks for tells and can’t find any. Tabor wants him to think he’s done fighting and ready to be flirty. Keith knows he’s a liar.

“You can’t trick me,” Keith says, infusing the words with cocky confidence. Tabor absolutely can and is about to trick him.

“Love, I’m tired,” he says with a yawn. His muscles are at ease, his limbs long and loose. “Let’s go to lunch.”

Keith can’t _act_ if he doesn’t. He stays half-coiled and ready to move. “You can go to lunch, I’ll fight a gladiator instead.”

Tabor takes a leisurely couple of steps to his left and Keith counters until they’re steadily walking in a wide circle, always on opposite ends of it.

“You’re coldblooded,” Keith tells him. 

“You’re calculating,” Tabor responds. It sounds like a compliment. 

Keith lunges across the circle and knocks Tabor onto his ass. Tabor’s arms come up around him and they roll until Keith kicks out a leg to stop them. His head thumps back against the floor and Tabor grins down at him from above. When Keith struggles, he presses the blunt edge of a practice knife against Keith’s throat.

“Fuck,” Keith breathes. He bends his leg, knee rising up between Tabor’s legs and presses close enough to be a threat. 

Tabor curses in Galran and presses his forehead to Keith’s.

“We can never have a fair fight,” Keith pouts.

“You bruised my sternum,” Tabor says. He pulls away and drops the practice knife beside Keith’s head. His hand goes to his chest as he sits back. “You’re so strong still.”

Keith sits up amidst twinges of pain. “You got me pretty good yourself.”

They’d been fighting for what felt like hours. Keith was starving and hot and tired. He was sore in a way that highlights just how long it’s been since they’ve properly fought. He’s thinking through a list of things to practice and ways to get more time to do so.

And he’s so turned on. 

He crawls the short distance between them and kisses Tabor hard on the lips. Tabor smiles into the kiss and falls back, dragging Keith with him. Their attendant clears her throat and the sound of it echoes menacingly. 

“Busted,” Keith whispers. He mentally forces himself to stand up and holds a hand out to his prone husband.

“We should let someone else have the deck anyway,” Tabor says, not making a move to get up. He does a full body stretch and settles into the mat with a content sigh. “I’m going to sleep well tonight.”

“If all you had needed was tiring out, I could have helped.” Keith gently kicks Tabor’s leg with the side of his foot and bounces his hand over him. “Up.”

He finally accepts Keith’s hand and gets to his feet and they walk hand in hand back to their room to shower. 

The second time they’d slept together, Keith had gone to him when it was his turn to man the base while everyone else was on assignment. He’d never wanted something so badly in his life. He’d thought it’d be awkward but it wasn’t at all. They started off with their proper make-out in Tabor’s quarters while the defense system monitor floated in the background.

It had been irresponsible, very teenager-like. Which in the broad scheme of the universe was exactly what he and Tabor had been. Early 20s-ish. Neither of them had ever really been able to be irresponsible teenagers before.

After making out, they lay in Tabor’s bed and undressed slowly and Keith had been ready and excited for the angry, desperate pace of their first time together but what he got was… tender. He found that tender with Tabor was even better than the other. It was slow and intentional and toe-curling. Keith still cites it as some of the best sex he’s ever had and he’s had plenty more sessions like it since then. It was the freshness of it, the intense swell of brand new feelings that came with it…

By then, Keith knows no one could have swayed him away. He’d fallen in love with Tabor. He’d wanted a life with him. He believed they were meant to last.

He believed that even when it seemed inevitable that one or both of them would die thousands of lightyears apart. The universe had seemed so stacked against them. Keith spent two years fighting and reconciling with his mom and desperately missing his boyfriend in the quantum abyss. Team Voltron inexplicably disappeared for three years and Tabor never stopped looking for him because he _knew_ Keith wasn’t dead. Keith still has nightmares, fueled by stress, about the day they answered a distress signal only to find a druid who had lured hundreds of Blades to their deaths. Keith had nearly lost his mind scrabbling among the blades looking for Tabor’s. In the nightmares, sometimes he finds it. 

Keith had even maintained hope when the final hours of battle seemed like they’d be Keith’s final hours ever and all he had to prove to himself that Tabor was okay was a bone-deep instinct. 

If Keith hadn’t loved someone so fiercely, he can’t say how hard he could have fought or how far he could have gone. And he’d never want that to diminish what the other paladins mean to him. Them and his parents were and still are everything to him, but Tabor is even more than that. He was the final burst of energy to keep him fighting to the finish, he was the person he pictured when he needed the motivation to go on. Just him.

If Shiro had confessed his feelings at any point during all of that, he’d have turned him down as softly as he could. He loved Shiro, always would, but he wouldn’t have chosen Shiro. 

“Tabor,” Keith says, just loud enough to be heard over the running water. 

“Hm?” he murmurs. His eyes are closed and his face is tilted up toward the shower head. 

“I’ve been thinking all day and I know the answer,” he says, tugging at his wrist to get him look at him. 

Tabor opens both golden eyes and turns to face him. “Oh. Okay. Should we…?” he asks, gesturing to the world outside their shared shower. Keith nods. “Okay.” 

Tabor is tense as they quickly wrap the shower up and step out to dry off. Keith wanted to wait until they were dressed and sitting somewhere but he doesn’t want Tabor to be nervous… there’s nothing to be nervous about at all. So he just speaks.

“The only time I would have chosen someone else was in the time between the first time we slept together and the day you told me that you’d keep fighting if I kept fighting,” 

Tabor, clutching his towel around his waist, looks up so slowly that Keith can’t gauge his reaction at all. And then he breathes and relief washes over his features. “That’s reasonable,” he says in a measured voice, fighting a smile. 

“Yeah?” Keith teases lightly. “Glad to be reasonable.”

Tabor doesn’t say anything else, but the tension has bled away. Keith rubs at his hair with a towel to hide his face in case he looks at all disappointed. He wanted Tabor to say something back, something similar. He doesn’t need the reassurance, he was the one to make Tabor need this answer in the first place but—

Tabor’s hand falls on his shoulder. “I’ll be in the living room,” he says and kisses Keith’s cheek before slipping away.

Keith finishes drying and getting dressed before meeting him there, hoping his sour mood will be diluted. He’d just felt like what he said was so romantic! Why couldn’t Tabor just say something romantic back!

“Beautiful,” Tabor says when Keith appears. He pats the spot next to him on the couch until Keith moves to sit. 

Immediately, he takes Keith’s hands in his and looks him dead in the eye. Keith used to think his eyes were just gold, but after years of looking into them he can see the slight color difference between iris and pupil. Keith feels his disappointment ebb away. 

“I’ve never told you this…” he starts, voice low and shy. “But I felt the partner bond with you our second time together.”

Keith takes a second to absorb that shock. His mother had told him it took her months to feel it for his father, that it came about when the general attraction changed to something deeper. Other Galrans have said it can take years.

“That early?” Keith asks, breathless.

Tabor nods, bashful. “That’s why what you told Shiro…” he fades out and waves it off as if it doesn’t matter anymore.

But it does matter, Keith gets it.

“I’m the worst,” Keith says, taking one hand back from Tabor to press against his own cheek in distress.

Tabor shakes his head. 

“I’m so sorry.”

“There’s no need to keep whipping yourself over it,” he says. “It’s done, we’ve reconciled.” 

Keith feels soothed by his pragmatism. He loves that this man is so literal and straightforward. Keith is overwhelmed by how much he loves him. 

“I knew that early too,” Keith confesses. He means this in a deeper way than just “I wouldn’t have left you for someone else.” He’d been _lovesick_ for Tabor after that second time…w “Why haven’t we talked about this before.”

Tabor pulls him closer and wraps his arms around him. “You knew I felt the bond with you and I knew how you felt. The timeline never mattered.”

“I like our timeline,” Keith says, pinching Tabor’s chin between his thumb and curled index finger. 

“I do too.”

Keith closes his eyes when Tabor presses their foreheads together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IF YOU READ THIS CHAPTER I LOVE YOU I HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT
> 
> If you didn't enjoy it, that's okay too!! <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you skipped the last chapter, all you need to know is that other Keith did a lot of soul searching and talking things out with his husband and that's why he's less of a dick in this chapter.

_Another Reality_

Shiro is yawning behind his cup of coffee in the mess hall when a tray clacks down across from him. He takes a deep breath and lowers the mug and locks his tablet.

“Hey,” Keith says, bright and brisk. He sits and starts to peel an orange in one, unbroken strip. “How was your weekend?”

“Hey, it was good. Yours?” Shiro hears and hates the impersonal nature of his own response…

His weekend was better than good. His weekend was perfect.

His tablet buzzes softly and he glances at it.

_K: I’m exhausted, someone kept me up talking all night._

Shiro grins and just barely remembers to hide it against the fist propping his head up.

“It was fine,” Keith answers. “Tabor and I took advantage of the training deck, it was nice to spar.”

“Who won?”

“It was a draw,” Keith says with a knife-sharp smirk and a sparkle in his eyes. “And then we took it straight back to our room…”

Shiro huffs a laugh.

“Not even going to blush about that?” Keith asks.

Shiro shrugs, pops a piece of bacon into his mouth, and types out a response to his Keith.

_S: Weird, someone kept me up all night too. ;)_

“You didn’t tell me anything about your weekend, what’d you do?” Keith presses.

“Uh, you know. Hung out.”

Keith sets his fork down with a clank, his hand balling into a fist and forcibly opening again. “Shiro, I’m trying...”

_K: I’m trying to focus on this meeting, but I keep thinking about you._

“I didn’t ask you to try to do anything,” Shiro says, a little cruelly.

Keith doesn’t move or speak, he takes it in and processes it and runs through the gamut of ways to respond. This is a newer version of Keith. The politician. For a second, Shiro lets himself mourn the person he’d been. He takes another second to be proud of the person he is. The result is guilt.

“I’m sorry,” Shiro says before Keith can say anything.

Keith remains silent a little longer, but he pokes at his food and takes a bite at least.

_S: Focus, babe! I’m about to be in morning meetings but thinking about you too.  
K: lol “focus, babe” back at you then._

“I’m sorry for how that conversation went,” Keith says, soft. “I talked to Tabor about it—”

“Oh, God.” Shiro feels a thrill of terror at 7-foot-something tall Tabor knowing that he’d had feelings for his husband…

“I tell him everything,” Keith says. “That’s how our relationship works. I talked to him about this because you’re important to me and I needed his perspective.”

“Okay, I get it.” Shiro resists the urge to rub his face in embarrassment and discomfort, but just barely.

“I talked to him and he said you deserve a good relationship and that we should talk things out because we care about each other. And I agree with him…”

Shiro is so hung up with wondering if Keith told Tabor that he’d said he’d have chosen Shiro over him that he almost misses the kindness and acceptance in Keith’s voice. But it’s there.

“So,” Keith says. “You were right. I like feeling in control of the things that happen to me, and that includes my relationships. I’m sorry. I’m terrified of losing your friendship but the more I try to control it, the more I push you away.”

His watch beeps, indicating the five minute warning for the morning staff meeting. Shiro fidgets with the clasp.

“I want you to feel comfortable telling me about him. I want to be a part of your life and if he’s part of your life I want to know whatever you want to tell me.”

“Did you tell Tabor you told me that you’d have chosen me over him?” Shiro asks quietly, leaning forward.

Keith sighs loudly, capping it off with an awkward laugh. “Yeah.”

“Is he going to kill me when he sees me?”

“No. He asked me if I had meant that and… I had to think about it.”

“You didn’t mean it, did you?”

A complicated emotion flits over his face. “No,” he breathes. “I shouldn’t have said it, it hurt both of you. It was manipulative of me to say. I’m really sorry.”

Shiro relaxes. He checks his watch and sees that he’s dangerously close to being late.

“I appreciate that, thank you.” The part of him that would have loved hearing that Keith would leave his significant other for him had grown up at some point. He’d felt unsettled by the information. He felt like that kind of truth would ruin them. This counter-confession would have hurt him at another time in his life, but now he’s relieved. “I’m sorry I hadn’t told you about him sooner.”

“It’s okay.”

“My weekend was… amazing,” Shiro confesses. He feels a dopey smile pull at his lips.

“There’s that blush,” Keith says, affectionate.

Shiro _heh_ s as he stands and gathers his tray. “I’ll tell you about it later, I have to get to a meeting. But uh, I did ask him to come to the wedding…”

“Oh.” Keith’s eyes widen.

“Think that’ll be okay with everyone?” Shiro asks. He desperately hopes it’ll be okay…

“I think so. It’s okay with me,” Keith answers earnestly.

When dinner time rolls around, Keith drags Shiro behind him into his and Tabor’s suite. Tabor is there, sitting on the floor in between the couch and the coffee table as he reads over some documents. The image is bizarrely human and jarring. Shiro supposes he’s not terribly familiar with a Galra at rest.

“Hey, honey,” Keith says, cheerful. “Shiro and I are having dinner here, do you want to join?”

“Of course,” he says, half-distracted by his work but smiling Keith’s way anyway. “Hello, Shiro.”

“Tabor,” Shiro greets, friendly.

He’s never actually spent that much time with Tabor in a casual setting. Even when staying with the two of them at their home on Daibazaal, Tabor is usually working or giving the Paladins their space. At his most jealous, Shiro thought Keith and Tabor were sorta distant from each other or that Tabor didn’t like the people Keith loved… At his least jealous, like now, he can see how easy their respect for each other comes.

Shiro met Tabor when he was a brutal warrior, now he’s the generous man his best friend married. Shiro’s heard about their dates and the romantic things he’s done for Keith and the ways they’ve navigated the waters of their different cultures to define their relationship by their own terms. He’s heard plenty of allusions to a satisfying sex life. Gross.

Shiro smiles to himself thinking about it.

Shiro sits at the small kitchen table while Keith grabs drinks from the mini fridge.

“Sorry the suite is so small,” Shiro says, looking around.

“It’s nice, we really appreciate your hospitality,” Tabor says, looking over his shoulder toward him. “Keith and I have enjoyed our stay here.”

“You’re welcome here any time.”

“You two are so formal with each other,” Keith comments. He sets a beer in front of Shiro, walks to hand one to Tabor (and bends down to kiss him), and makes his way back.

“He’s a prime minister—”

“He’s the Admiral of—”

“Okay, okay,” Keith says, loud enough to drown them both out. “Shiro. Tell me about your weekend.”

So Shiro, awkwardly at first, tells him all about the tests they’ve been running, the technology they’re working with, and seeing Keith’s ship. He tells him about Arus, which makes Keith light up and ask a hundred questions. After awhile, Tabor joins them at the table and rests his arm over the back of Keith’s chair. Shiro smiles when Keith grabs his hand over his shoulder and holds it loosely, their wedding rings lined up and glinting. Their effortless love fills him up and makes him think of his Keith.

After a second beer and halfway through a glass of wine, Shiro tells them about running into the older versions of themselves and Keith calling out Older Keith’s unrequited love.

“God,” Keith laughs. “Is he going to be a punk ass to me to when we meet?”

“Oh, we’re meeting him?” Tabor asks.

“He’s coming to the wedding.”

“How nice!”

“I think so too.”

Shiro smiles. “He’ll play nice if you do.”

“I will!”

Tabor tops off all their glasses with the remainder of the wine. Keith’s cheeks are lit from within, clearly more than just tipsy.

“How’s the sex?” Keith asks frankly. Okay, definitely drunk.

Shiro hides his face in his hands. “Why does everyone ask that?”

“The novelty of it all, Shiro,” Keith answers. “It must be good, you keep traveling to another reality for it.”

“Oh man, not just for the sex!”

“I’d travel to another reality for you,” Tabor muses, hand coming up to ruffle his hair.

“Aw, for me or for the sex?”

Tabor just smiles. Keith rolls his eyes but leans back against Tabor’s shoulder. Shiro shakes his head at them.

“It’s all good and not anyone’s business. But I…” He trails off, his face going hot. “I’m falling in love with him.”

The two of them exchange a look that’s all in the eyes and pinched attempts at not smiling.

“I’m happy for you,” Keith says when they break their nonverbal exchange. Tabor nods in agreement. “Really. I can’t wait to meet him.”

Shiro lets out a breath with a laugh. He imagines a future like this, Tabor and Keith on one side of the table and him and his Keith on the other. Talking and laughing and being friends. He feels a thrill of nervousness about the two Keiths meeting and how the results of that may doom all possibilities for friendliness. But this Keith before him reaches across the table and touches his hand.

“I like seeing you happy,” he says, genuine and warm.

**

_Core Reality_

“If Keith doesn’t stop checking his tablet at Paladin night, he’s getting the boot,” Hunk says, waving a hand in between Keith’s face and Shiro’s newest message.

“Stop,” Keith mutters, knocking Hunk’s hand away. His feels his cheeks heat up while Hunk and Pidge laugh at him.

“That chat program is way too simple to be my proudest achievement, buuuut…” Pidge says, smug.

“You’re a genius, yeah yeah,” Keith says.

“Answer the text and come back to _this_ reality, buddy,” Hunk says.

Keith rolls his eyes.

_S: Favorite breakfast food, go._   
_K: Bacon. You? Let me guess, protein shakes._   
_S: :P_   
_S: French toast!_

Keith grins, lets him know that he’ll be scarce for bit, and reluctantly sets the tablet down.

They talk all the time now. It hardly feels real, it’s too good. They go from good morning messages to random questions to complaining to flirting to good night and signing off. Keith told him story after story about his dad while he flew here for this. It’s fair that he should just _be here_ with his friends after all that. He doesn’t see the other Paladins as much as he’d like.

“So, do you two just… what did people call it back in the day? Cyber? Do you two just cyber all the time now?” Lance asks, bursting in from the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn.

“Gross,” Pidge says.

“Are you tracking the chat logs?” Keith asks, mostly just to tease.

“Hellllll no, I don’t need to see any of that. It sends crash reports to me if it needs to though.”

“We’re not “cybering,” assholes,” Keith tells them. He tugs the bowl of popcorn out of Lance’s arms. “We’re just talking.” He pops a fistful of popcorn in his mouth and chews at them.

Pidge flops onto the couch next to him and reaches into the bowl to follow suit. Hunk shakes his head and sits on the other side of Keith.

“I think it’s romantic,” Hunk says. “When are you seeing him again?”

“In a few months.” He hesitates.

Should he mention the wedding date thing? Lance is doing so much better, spending more and more time on New Altea with Coran and getting more invested in things there. They all know Allura is alive in that other reality and he’s desperate to process all this with people who understand…

“Actually,” he says and clears his throat. “I’ll be his date to Allura’s wedding…”

They’re all silent. Lance takes in the news with a weird expression on his face and Keith instantly regrets bringing it up. Pidge frowns and looks down to pick at her cuticles.

“That’s… really nice, that’s really lucky,” Hunk finally says.

Keith keeps his eyes on Lance, hoping to get something from him so he can communicate something back. Lance’s complicated expression shifts through a couple more expressions in the meantime.

“If you don’t want me to go, I don’t have to,” Keith says.

“I want you to go,” Lance says at last. “Report back for us.”

He sits to Keith’s right and fusses over getting everyone’s drinks on coasters.

“Are you sure?” Keith asks, voice soft.

He nods. “Give them, uh… my best.”

“Lance, I’m sorry…”

He shakes his head.

“This sucks,” Pidge says. “That should be our reality, you know?”

Lance looks at her, thankful and sad. “It’s okay, we’ll be okay.”

Keith picks at the fraying edge of his sweater’s cuff. This cosmic unfairness is always at the back of his head, no matter how well things go. People shouldn’t have this kind of knowledge of their other-reality counterparts. It’s the “grass is always greener” thing to the most extreme degree.

He wants to tell them that things aren’t perfect in the other reality, but they know that. They know the war tore that reality apart too, they know life is more complicated than that. But the things that matter, the big differences… they kinda make it seem so much better.

“I mean it, Keith, I want like pictures and everything,” Lance says. “And listen, everyone, I appreciate the sympathy and I extend it back to all of you… we have each other, right? Who knows what good lies ahead! I’m glad other reality me is locking other reality Allura down for life, that’s the best. Kinda makes me feel like that would have happened here too.” He abruptly goes quiet at that.

Pidge gets up from the chair she’d made a big point of claiming earlier to wedge herself in between Keith and Lance, her arms going around him. Hunk reaches across Keith and Pidge to squeeze Lance’s knee.

“I don’t have to go, I can tell Shiro it’s too much…” Keith says, and he knows that part of him has been begging for this excuse.

“Don’t be crazy,” Lance says, voice steady. “Go, dance with your dude, tell the happy couple we’re happy for them, whatever. We gonna watch this movie?”

“We’re waiting for Shiro,” Pidge says.

“He said to start without him!” Lance squawks.

“But then he’s just going to keep asking questions about stuff thinking he missed it, it’s annoying!” Pidge argues back.

Keith is nervous to see him. It’ll be the first time since they hashed things out and Keith isn’t sure that it won’t feel awful to be near each other…

Pidge’s security system beeps and announces Shiro’s arrival a couple seconds into Lance and Pidge’s playful argument. She pops out of her spot between them to rush to open the door and tackle him with a hug.

None of them see each other as much anymore. And all of them feel the strange emptiness. Keith will always remember the distinct feeling of having them all nestled in his consciousness and existing in theirs. The unique connection the lions afforded them makes it even harder to be separated and spread across the universe. Despite his nerves, Keith feels a part of him relax now that they’re all here, as many of them as can be.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” Shiro says through a smile. His eyes fall on Keith and his expression doesn’t falter. “Curtis and I just got some good news before I left.”

Lance gasps theatrically. “You’re pregnant?”

“Close,” Shiro says, smile intensifying. “Our first choice surrogate accepted us, so…”

“What! Wait, surrogate? Since when was this a thing?” Hunk asks, shocked.

Judging by everyone else’s reaction, Keith really was the only one he’d told. The fact warms him.

“Shiro, that’s amazing,” he says, meaning it.

Lance and Hunk stand to hug him. Pidge bounces on the balls of her feet next to them. Keith hesitates before getting up, but he wants to hug him too. And though the need to evaluate his own reaction to the news sorta dampens the effect, he feels… elated and proud and excited.

“We’re still a long way out from bringing a baby home, but yeah!” Shiro says, breathless and joyful.

“God, you’re such an adult, it’s weird,” Lance says, clapping Shiro on the shoulder.

Shiro laughs. “I know, it’s crazy.” His eyes land on Keith and he opens his arms to him. “Come here.”

“Congratulations,” Keith says into is shoulder, hugging him tight.

“Thanks, man.”

“See, good stuff!” Lance exclaims, gesturing at Shiro.

Shiro shrugs out of his jacket and lifts a confused eyebrow at him.

“We were just being sad about Allura and the wedding Keith is going to,” he says, waving it off. “But this is the good stuff going on in _this_ reality.”

“Oh,” Shiro says, making eye contact with Keith again.

“Yeah, I’m uh. Going with him-” _Him._ “- to Allura and Lance’s wedding in his reality…”

“Oh, wow.”

And now Keith feels everyone’s eyes on him. It’s weird, he knows. This whole thing is crazy.

“That’ll be fun, take pictures,” Shiro says.

They’re okay, Keith can feel the bonds between them slowly re-knitting. The others accept the exchange as a sign that things are fine and they all move back to the couches.

“Did you start without me?” Shiro asks through a mouthful of popcorn.

“We know better,” Hunk teases.

“What! I said you could!”

“Yeah, and you’re annoying, so we waited,” Hunk says, flicking a kernel his way.

Keith sinks into the comfortable ease of being with them while the movie plays. He laughs at Lance and Hunk’s running commentary, he loops an arm around Pidge when she leans heavily against his side, he looks to Shiro to make sure he’s enjoying himself.

Inevitably, his thoughts stray to Allura. The movie plays on, the two love interests bumbling through miscommunications and hijinks, and Keith just misses her. He’s excited to see her again, he wishes he could crash the party with everyone in tow, he wishes he could change their own story.

Shiro breaks his train of thought with a surprisingly loud bit of laughter and he’s sucked right back to the present. Hunk is holding Lance in his arms while they both pretend to blubber about their love for each other.

“Stop,” Shiro wheezes.

Keith loves them so much it make his chest hurt, like the feeling had grown to the size of five huge lions and it doesn’t quite fit in his singular, human body.

Is there a way forward where he gets the good from this reality and the good from his Shiro’s reality?

The thought sours his mood with anxiety.

He hardly notices when the movie is over until Pidge slips out from under his arm to chase after Lance and Hunk into the kitchen.

“You okay?” Shiro asks, startling him.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” His fingers itch to reach for his tablet to see what his Shiro has said in the last couple of hours but he resists.

“You don’t look fine, is everything okay?” Shiro presses in the warm, low voice that has seen Keith through so much of his life.

“Yes,” he answers, matching his tone and meaning it more this time. “I accidentally let myself wonder how I’m supposed to be apart of my own reality and dating Shiro… er, other Shiro.”

“You can just call him Shiro, I know who you mean,” Shiro says. He smiles encouragingly and Keith may be desperate for his acceptance, but it seems supportive.

“Okay.”

“Are things going well? Pidge mentioned a chat program…”

“Things are great, yeah.”

“Are you excited for the wedding?”

“And nervous,” he confesses with a tight nod.

“You’ll have fun,” Shiro says, confident.

Keith nods again. “Do you think I’m stupid for doing this?” he asks, surprising himself.

He wants his support. He wants his explicit acceptance. He needs more than Shiro just saying it's up to him to make his own choices…

“No, I know you’re not stupid,” Shiro says with a frown. “Trust your judgment. Let yourself feel how you feel.”

“Okay.”

Silence stretches between them. Keith distantly hears Pidge’s voice and the sound of a spoon rapidly hitting the sides of a mixing bowl. He assumes Hunk is cooking. He assumes Lance will dip his finger into the batter and that Hunk will push him off the counter. He assumes Shiro will leave before the food is out of the oven, regardless of what it is, because he has to get back to Curtis.

“Keith, if this stuff makes you happy, I know you’ll find a way to balance it. I’m, uh, really relieved that you still want to be a part of this, here,” Shiro says, gesturing around them on the final word.

“Did you think I would disappear?” Keith asks.

Shiro turns sheepish for a second before shrugging. “I thought it might be possible.”

“No,” Keith breathes. “That kid of yours is going to need me.”

Shiro’s face splits into a grin and he looks down into his lap. “You got that right.”

“Shiro, chocolate or caramel, break the tie,” Lance says, leaning in the kitchen doorway.

“Tie?” Keith asks. “There’s three of you and you didn’t ask me, what tie?”

“You always vote against whatever I vote for so we just assumed, shut up. Shiro? Are you staying this time?”

“Yeah, I’m staying. What’d you vote for?”

“Caramel.”

“Chocolate, then.”

“Damn,” he curses. Pidge and Hunk heckle him in the background.

“You’re staying?” Keith asks.

Shiro nods. “I think it’s important to be here,” he says in a voice so soft it could count as a whisper.

Keith gets it. He thinks so too.

**

_Another Reality_

Allura claps her hands in delight after Shiro runs his wedding date by her. And immediately follow it up with a nervous: “Keith knows about all this, right?”

“We’ve talked, yes,” He assures.

“And how’d that go?” she asks, cautious.

“Fine, ultimately. We fought and then we resolved it and then I told him I’d asked him to the wedding which… I mean, I’m sorry I told him before I told you. It’s your day, not his, I’m sorry.”

She waves his apologies off. “So you resolved it, you said? You two are okay, then?”

“Yes,” Shiro says, knowing it to be true after the night before. They’d ended their dinner and drinks on a high note and everything felt positive. Good. “I think he’s supportive. Or, wanting to be. I guess. We’ll see.” He can’t fight the nervous edge and he knows she hears it.

She tilts her head his way. “Are you excited?” The last syllable slips down, betraying her concern.

Shiro lets out a long breath, battling through the complicated feelings clogging his chest. “Yes,” he says with the tail end of his airstream. “And I’m a little nervous.”

Allura nods, eyes full of understanding. “Well, Lance and I will be perfectly welcoming and I’m sure everyone else will play nice too.”

Magically, Allura fills Shiro with the same confidence she seems to feel about it.

“Thanks,” Shiro says.

She reaches across her workspace and squeezes his hand. She half turns back toward her screen where an early draft of a speech, marked up with line edits and studded with comment bubbles, is open and waiting for her to perfect. He should leave her to it but…

“It’s kind of crazy, right? Doing normal things. Weddings. Spending a whole week together. Talking every day.”

“It sure isn’t customary, in your very specific case,” she says lightly. “But otherwise, I think it sounds perfectly normal. Lance and I are practically professional wedding guests now.”

A glowing warm washes over him. “That sounds nice.”

She snorts. “Hardly, it’s time consuming and I don’t like half the people… but, it’s nice to dress up.”

“I hope that’s us someday,” Shiro says, quiet and childish.

She laughs at him, but it’s a soft and loving sound. “If that’s what you want, it probably will be. You said you talk every day now?”

He nods.

“That’s wonderful! Pidge’s handiwork? You know, we really should start scouting the rifts again now that she’s made these advancements… anyway, Shiro. Tell him I can’t wait to have him at the wedding. And ask him his meal preference. Oh, I can’t wait!” She claps her hands again.

Shiro laughs as she unceremoniously dismisses him from her office space with a meaningful _whoosh_ of the automatic door.

**

_Core Reality_

Keith has a clear shot of Tabor from across the bridge. He’s hunched over to get a close look at his screen, no doubt considering some very important data or trying to figure out if Acxa’s messages are flirtatious or not. Keith knows they are. Keith also knows it’ll take Tabor months to get caught up to the fact. Keith stretches the rubber band between index finger and thumb and shoots it right at the side of Tabor’s face.

Tabor whips his head up in Keith’s direction and bares his teeth at him, moderately menacing. Keith pretends to be very entranced by his tablet.

This is a mission ran by Kolivan. Keith and Tabor, both normally in charge, are second fiddle here. Keith doesn’t mind, it gives him good reason to spend their flight through deep space talking to Shiro. Tabor is on his utmost best behavior trying to look impressive.

_K: What time is it where you are?_

Keith loves to ask that. Because sometimes their times line up exactly. Night and day and lunch and dinner, all aligned. But other times, time stretches like soft taffy or snaps short. Hunk explained it once, aided by Coran who had been visiting. It hadn’t made a single bit of sense to Keith, but the gist seemed to be that the rotations of the universe mattered. Whatever. The difficulty of the explanation and all the math required was why interstellar travelers had adopted a sort of unified time system based solely on the automated and impersonal timing of computers. Shiro’s reality had done the same.

_S: About noon, universal time. 7pm Central._   
_K: Universal time messes with my head._   
_S: Mine too. Texas forever, deep down._   
_K: Same here._   
_S: What time is it there?_   
_K: Same time, universal._   
_S: How’s the weather?_

Keith bites down a laugh. They’ll be together again so soon. Just a couple weeks. Keith can hardly stand the wait. He craves Shiro’s wry tone and bright eyes.

_K: The perfectly moderated weather of a vessel traveling through the vacuum of space. We’re headed to a new ally’s base for some negotiations. How about you?_   
_S: The sterile, optimal temperature that Atlas maintains year round. I’d kill for a natural breeze or a rainstorm._   
_K: Ugh, same. Or some super hot sun._   
_S: God, yes. Maybe one of those cold, gloomy days where you have to wear a jacket._   
_K: We need to go back to that snowy planet._   
_S: Now I’m thinking bear skin rugs and roaring fireplaces and hot toddies, thanks._   
_K: Anytime. Where am I in relation to the bear skin rug?_   
_S: You know exactly where ;)_

A sharp snap of pain makes his cheek smart and his hand flies up to it. He looks up and right into Tabor’s cool, unflinching gaze. The rubber band is laying on the floor next to his feet.

“Enough,” Kolivan says, lacking any particular heat.

Tabor and Keith exchange minute, impish smiles and turn back to their screens.

_K: Wearing it to bed?  
S: Exactly._

Keith flicks the chat program away to check the readings Kolivan has assigned him to monitor. He fields a couple messages from his team back at the main base and double checks a medical supply shipment. When Kolivan asks him to read out a status, Keith has it ready.

_S: How are you? Time, weather, and bear skin rugs aside._   
_K: Other than counting down the days and going crazy? Good. This mission is a big deal for Kolivan so it’s cool to be asked to be a part of it. I’ll tell you about it in person, Tabor would lecture me for days if he found out I wrote it out._   
_S: Counting down the days too. (12 days!) Is Tabor there too?_   
_K: Yeah, he’s being such a goody two shoes trying to impress K. Comical._   
_S: Kolivan make any moves on your mom yet?_   
_K: I suddenly can’t read._

**

_Another Reality_

Shiro can’t sleep. And he can only partially blame that on the chainsaw chorus of Lance and Hunk snoring on the other side of the room.

_K: How’s the stag party? Tell me everything when you’re up!_   
_S: Still up, hi. :)_   
_K: Go away then, talk to me later._   
_S: They’re all asleep and I’m laying here listening to their godawful snoring. How was your night?_   
_K: Fine, getting things ready to be away for a week._

He smiles at his tablet. He can feel Keith’s low-simmering anxiety through the screen. He imagines wrapping his arm around his shoulders and kissing his temple. They’d hashed out everything, certain details getting multiple passes. Keith had a suit picked out, he had fretted over whether or not he needed a haircut, he’d asked Shiro a thousand questions about everyone as if piecing together careful profiles full of talking points.

Shiro is excited to see him in the suit and he’s glad he didn’t get the haircut. He’s excited to hear his voice and see the way expressions flicker across his face.

 _S: I’m so excited to see you_  
_K: I don’t have a wedding gift for them, tell me what to get._  
 _K: Oh, excited to see you too! <3_

The heart makes Shiro grin even harder. He tells him not to worry about the gift and playfully argues back when Keith disagrees. It devolves into flirting almost immediately.

Keith calls him a dork, Shiro starts typing “I love you” but deletes it.

_S: You’re a nerd.  
K: A nerd who still wants to know how the trip is going._

So Shiro tells him about Cuba - the beaches, the bars, Allura and Lance being sickeningly in love all over the place, and how Hunk ending up with a handful of numbers written on napkins by the end of the night. Keith appropriately reacts with a keyboard smash and a “good for them!!” when Shiro mentions finding Pidge kissing Lance’s sister.

 _K: I gotta tell my Pidge about that, give her some ideas maybe._  
_S: I somehow can’t picture you playing cupid._  
 _K: It’s not my style, but I guess having a … thing with someone makes me more romantic._  
 _S: A thing! Is that what we have?_  
 _K: Yep. A thing._

Shiro’s fingers hover over the keys. He wants to say he loves him. He wants to say this is more than a thing. But he waits too long.

 _K: A good thing._  
_S: A very good thing. _  
_K: The best thing.___

I love you. Simple. Just say it.

 _S: You’re the best thing._  
_K: Yeah, I am._  
 _S: LOL confident._  
 _K: :)_  
 _S: I wish you were here._  
 _K: I wish you were here too._

Shiro imagines a body next to him in the narrow bunk, thinking about Keith next to him in the twin-sized bed on his ship. Warm skin and toned muscles and the brush of his hair on his cheek. Shiro wishes he was anywhere with Keith, this reality or his or their in-between place.

He wants to kiss him and tell him he loves him in person.

 _S: Describe where you are to me so I can pretend I’m not in a room full of bunk beds trying to sleep through snoring._  
_K: Does Keith snore too?_  
 _S: No, but he’s asleep anyway. He brought headphones._  
 _K: Smart man._  
 _S: :(_  
 _K: I’m at the main hub in my room. Kosmo is here, snoring a little too actually._  
 _S: Are you in bed?_  
 _K: Is that a sexy question because aren’t you in a room full of fellow paladins?_  
 _S: Not a sexy question because I am in a room full of fellow paladins, yes._  
 _K: Haha. I’m in bed, yeah. Super sexy detail: wearing the old Voltron pajama pants._  
 _S: Suuuuper sexy. Shirtless?_  
 _K: Wearing your shirt but you can picture me shirtless if it helps._  
 _S: It’s a beautiful mental image but I assure you it helps nothing right now._

Shiro works his jaw back and forth, the grin he’s had plastered on his face the whole time starting to make his cheeks ache. I love you, I love you, I love you. Shiro taps his fingers on the thin glass edge of the tablet.

 _S: But you in my shirt and those ratty red lion pajamas is so cute._  
_K: Glad you think so, there’s more of this where that came from._  
 _S: Promise?_

His heart hammers in his chest, feeling bold about the last message. Keith takes his time answering… Shiro’s about to type something else to distract from that when his next message comes in.

_K: Promise. :)_

Shiro can feel the allure of sleep pulling him down, finally. His eyes are heavy and tired of looking at the backlight. The snoring in the background has a rhythmic, ocean tide effect.

 _S: I should sleep. But you are so beautiful and I can’t wait to kiss you. Is that too much? Oh well, blame it on the exhaustion._  
_K: God, Takashi. <3 Two more days. Good night._  
 _S: Good night._

**

_The In-Between_

Keith can just glance at the satellite readings and know what needs to be done now. Most of it is running and communicating with Pidge’s super computers back in their own reality without needing anything from Keith. The scientific achievement in all this is great. It’s incredible. It makes Pidge one of the most accomplished beings in the entire universe, maybe even in a lot of alternate universes.

But as much as Keith knows that and as proud as he may be, the most important discovery for him has always been Shiro.

His Shiro.

For just a second, Keith wonders if talking every day will dull the shine of this. As soon as the thought comes to him, it’s washed away by the flood of excited adoration Keith feels thinking of him at all.

Shiro had sent him coordinates before he passed through the rift, refusing to answer when Keith asked how early he’d gotten there. Keith checks his messages as he prepares to land and Shiro was still playing coy.

 _S: Sending you directions for when you land._  
_K: You’re killing me._  
_S: See you soon. :)_

Keith follows the street directions to the entrance of a park. Just beyond the brick and cast iron entryway, Shiro stands with his hands in his pockets and a gleaming smile on his face. Keith’s heart leaps into his throat.

“About time,” Shiro says as Keith strides up to him.

The sound of his voice strikes a chord in Keith. The mere presence of him in the same physical space as Keith drives a stake through him. All those months of talking and still desperately missing him come crashing down on him. Keith takes his face in his hands and pulls him down into a kiss because it’s the only thing he can do. He can’t even speak yet.

Shiro’s arms slot around his waist and he pulls him tight against his chest. Keith lets out a breath against Shiro’s lips and kisses him again.

“Missed you too,” Shiro says, voice husky. He drops his forehead to Keith’s shoulder and Keith hugs him with all the pent up longing he can dredge up.

“Hi,” Keith whispers.

“Hi.”

“What are we doing here?”

“Being romantic,” Shiro says and lifts his head. They disengage but Shiro grabs his hand. “Let me show you.”

The park is lush, veering on tropical though the air here is arid and clear. Everywhere Keith looks he sees vines as thick as his wrist and strange, jewel-bright flowers. The ground they walk on glitters gold and black, catching light and throwing it back up at them. The sky above is pure turquoise.

Trees with spindly trunks but densely packed leaves give way to elegant, acid green topiaries of creatures Keith has never seen before. And eventually, even those give way to shoulder-height walls of flowers with faces as large as dinner plates.

Shiro leads the way around those and into a shaded area with cobblestone floors and an elaborate fountain and reflecting pool. It takes Keith’s eyes awhile to adjust to the dimmer lighting, but when they do he spots a cooler on the edge of the fountain.

“A picnic,” Shiro explains, smiling.

“Takashi,” Keith breathes, smiling back.

He doens’t know if Shiro realizes, but that’s his way of saying he adores him. Every time he says it, it’s just shorthand for the specific words that still feel so heavy to say out loud…

“How’d you find this place?” Keith asks.

“I got here super early and did a lot of research,” he confesses. Shiro pulls him by the hand to sit on the edge of the fountain and opens the cooler. “I booked us a room for a couple nights too, then we can head to my reality and New Altea and the castle and then the wedding shit gears up… I know you’re anxious and excited to get there and meet everyone but I really just… wanted this. I just wanted a few days just for us. I hope that’s okay?”

He’s rambling, as if suddenly uncertain of his choices. As if Keith would ever be disappointed at spending time alone with him.

“It’s perfect,” Keith says.

Shiro smiles at him, his hand paused in the cooler. “You’re always prettier than I remember,” he says softly. “Just, absolutely gorgeous.”

“Stop.”

“I mean it.”

“You see me all the time, technically.”

He shakes his head. “Not you, no. I wish.”

Keith’s cheeks heat up and Shiro drags his eyes away and back to the cooler which he continues to unpack. Keith wants to say it back. He always wants to receive every compliment Shiro gives him by lobbing one back over the net. It’s hard for him to vocalize things sometimes. He doesn’t want it to come out wrong or lame or embarrassing. Shiro never really seems to have that issue. He’s jealous.

But this time his desire to speak outweighs the fear.

“You too, you know. Seeing you just shocks me every time.”

“Yeah?” Shiro asks, sheepish half-smile in place. He holds up two cold drinks for Keith to choose between. Keith taps one and Shiro presses it into his hand. “Good shock?”

“Great shock. It’s hard for me to say things as well as you do, but I want you to know I feel the same way. I’ll work on it.”

“I like your mysterious ways. It’s like you have code words.”

“Oh yeah? And what are my code words, in your opinion?” Keith challenges with a flirtatious smirk.

“Well, my favorite is how slick you think you are about calling me Takashi, I know what it means.”

“Oh, do you?” Keith asks, heart fluttering in his chest.

Rather than offer his opinion of the translation, Shiro just nods smugly. “I wish you had a name I could use like that too.”

“Make one up,” Keith says. He accepts a wrapped sandwich from Shiro and starts to unwrap it.

“How about _boyfriend_ for now? An upgrade from _having a thing_ ,” he says, quoting their conversation from a couple nights ago. “And you could call me that too. Works both ways.”

“Slick, Shirogane,” Keith says, wry though his chest is about to burst. “Boyfriend it is.”

Shiro grins and takes a huge, unattractive bite of his sandwich in response. He does it to make Keith laugh and it works.

Keith wants to immortalize everything about this. He’s insanely grateful for Shiro’s selection of the perfect backdrop. Water softly singing in the fountain, wind in leaves, flashes of every color bouncing off the flowers and trees, the perfect early spring mildness in the air.

Keith leans over the cooler and kisses Shiro, not caring at all about his cold cuts breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wedding coming up neeeext. :)
> 
> Ily for reading, thank you very much.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wedding!!!

_Another Reality_

“Don’t be nervous,” Shiro says, squeezing Keith’s hand. “You’ve already met most of them.”

Shiro keeps reminding him that like it’ll make the bizarre experience of meeting a version of yourself who is pre-disposed to disliking you on the basis of dating their best friend any better… Keith doesn’t have the heart to remind him that. So he just swallows and nods. 

Keith supposes this is the most intense “meeting the folks” type situation he could ever personally have. And considering he can’t picture ever meeting anyone else’s folks, in this context, ever again… could be worse.

Shiro lifts Keith’s hand to kiss it. Keith smiles over at him, feeling soothed by the gesture. It echoes the last couple days they’d spent together. Casual touches, stollen kisses, exploring a city together, ending their days getting ready for bed together. Keith thinks back on watching Shiro shave and how domestic and settled it’d felt. 

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” he says, slipping his hand out of Shiro’s to pat him on the cheek. 

“If at any point you don’t feel fine, please talk to me. Pull me aside, I’m going to be constantly available to you.”

Keith scoffs. “You’re in the wedding party! I’m fine, I can handle myself.”

“Okay, but talk to me.”

“I will, promise. Focus on the landing.”

Shiro gasps, playing at being offended, but turns his attention toward navigating anyway.

The rebuilt castle on New Altea grows bigger and bigger as they descend. Keith can’t take his eyes away from it. It looks almost exactly the same but it somehow feels different, as if the towers were placed differently or the colors were a shade off. It takes awhile for Keith to realize that it’s the lack of Allura’s statue that makes it look all wrong. 

“Coran theorized that he’ll like you better than the other one, which made _the other one_ mad,” Shiro says, amused, after receiving clearance to land. 

“Oh, great,” Keith mutters.

“It’s Coran being Coran, he said it after Keith called his floral arrangements gaudy.”

He can see and hear that interaction as if he’d actually been there. He feels anchored by the familiarity, even without having met this Coran. 

Shiro’s right. He thinks about the short time he spent with the others from Shiro’s universe. It hadn’t been like being at home, but it’d been like being welcomed into someone else’s. He takes a deep breath and exhales anxiety. If the other Keith hates him, so be it. He’s sure the others will shield him from it. He’ll have other people to talk to.

Once landed, Shiro leads him through halls Keith could navigate himself if he wasn’t so disoriented by the sameness. A few yards from the entrance to the common area Shiro stops abruptly and grabs Keith’s hand, twining their fingers together. 

“This is a moment,” Shiro says. 

Keith lifts his free hand to trace his smile with his thumb. “Is it?”

“I’ve never introduced a boyfriend to these guys. And, I mean, they know about you. They’ve met you. But…” he breaks off to grin and blush. 

“Well, it’ll be the first time I’ve been introduced as someone’s boyfriend.”

“See? A moment.” Shiro pulls him closer by their clasped hands. His spare hand comes up to touch Keith’s cheek and guide him into a quick but soft kiss. “Let’s go.”

**

The doors slide open as Shiro approaches and the loud chatter within stops. He senses Keith shifting ever so slightly closer to him and his grip on his hand tightens.

“Keith!” Allura says first, popping up from the couch. She gathers her skirt in one hand and steps carefully over everyone’s legs. “You’re here!” 

She throws her arms around the both of them, just for a second, before stepping back to look them over. Shiro’s cheeks blaze when her eyes land on their clasped hands. 

“Delightful,” she says. 

The others had gotten up and made their way over after her. Pidge goes right in to hug Keith tight around his middle.

“You are _the best_ , I have a message for your Pidge to send back with you, but seriously you are my favorite, thank you so much for all your help!”

Keith drops Shiro’s hand to hug her back, laughing softly. “Shiro did a lot too.”

“I hug him for it every time, you have like a bunch of times to make up for.” She releases him finally, beaming up at him. “This is going to be _great_!”

While Lance and Hunk greet him and introduce him to Romelle and Coran, Keith hears Shiro ask Allura where Keith and Tabor are. 

“Running late, Tabor had a last second meeting spring up.”

“Has he said anything to you?” Shiro whispers. Keith’s ears perk up.

“About what?” she asks, breezy.

Shiro’s silence tells Keith he’s probably making eyebrow gestures his direction.

“No, no,” she says, dismissive. “Keith!” she says, hand falling on Keith’s arm. “Can we get you anything? Would you two like to settle in?” She curls her arm around his and ever so subtly tugs him away from the others. “Shiro never told us what meal you preferred, but there’s still time to change that with the caterer. And! Oh, did he tell you about the rehearsal dinner—”

“Uh oh, she got him,” Lance says. “Babe, don’t stress him out.”

She shoots a poisonous look over her shoulder at him and he backs away, hands up.

“I’m not picky,” Keith says, drawing her attention back to him. Her crystalline eyes on his feels like a punch to the gut. The very real warmth of her arm around his and the soft scent of her perfume and the thrumming energy of her presence. She’s all personality and breath and blood and gravity. He wishes he could distill and bottle up the feeling and take it home to share.

Her face softens and she tightens her grip on his arm. Like she knows. She probably does. “Well, perfect. Now, Shiro will be standing on my side, doing that earth wedding party thing. I loved it so much from Keith’s wedding, er… our Keith’s wedding, and of course Lance would have insisted anyway. And for good reason!”

On she chatters and Keith hangs on every word. 

“— I wanted to get your opinion on who you’d like to sit with during the ceremony so you don’t feel terribly marooned without Shiro or one of us. Did you ever know James Griffin?”

“Oh god,” Keith laughs. 

“Oh. Not good? He and our Keith are old friends.”

“Ex-boyfriends,” Hunk corrects. 

“Yes, well. No need to dig that whole thing up, Hunk. Perhaps you’d like to sit with some of the Blades?”

“Sit him with my family,” Lance cuts in, coming up on the other side of her. He presses a kiss to her cheek and gently pulls her away. “You have that final fitting to get to, Allura.”

She pouts. Keith smiles at the sight. “Well, we’ll see you at the rehearsal then.” She breaks away from Lance to hug Keith again, a hand coming up to press against his cheek for just a moment. “Shiro, help Keith settle in.”

“She’s in boss mode,” Lance stage whispers to them. “As usual.”

“Oh, stop,” she says, screwing her mouth up to stop a smile. “Come, now, love.”

“Coming, _pookie_!”

After they’re gone, Shiro flops onto a couch and pats the space next to him for Keith to sit. The others take their seats again and start asking them questions about their trip and the last couple of days. It feels normal and so deeply plausible that it’s… again, uncanny. There’s a certainty about everything in this reality, like it’s what was in the cards for Keith’s own reality too. 

Until that convergence point. 

Keith thinks about his conversation with this Allura, when she told him that all Alluras in all timelines faced the same decision. It’d be wildly inappropriate to try to talk to her about it again during her wedding, right? Yes…

“Isn’t that right, Keith?” Shiro asks, drawing him back to the present. Keith looks at him, needing a clue as to what he’s agreeing with. “We could use a shower and a nap?”

“Oh, yes. Sorry.”

“Keith said they’ll be here in a couple vargas,” Pidge says, glancing at the holodeck display projecting from her watch. “I have work to do.” 

“We need a way to refer to the Keiths,” Hunk suggests, turning his gaze to Keith. He squints at him like trying to find a defining factor.

“Just call them both Keith,” Shiro says, monotone and warning.

“Keith 1, Keith 2?” Coran suggests, though not unkindly.

“No,” Shiro vetoes. 

“Keith and Kogane?” Hunk tries.

“Again, no.”

“Shiro’s Keith and Tabor’s Keith?” Romelle asks. 

Shiro hesitates, making Keith lean into him. “Cute, but no. Just Keith, guys.”

“We’ll use context clues,” Keith says. People meet people with the same name all the time. Though, he thinks, his mind might bend and snap trying to maneuver in a world with his almost exact double. He resolves to mentally refer to him as Other Keith for now. Keith and Other Keith. Self and not self. His stomach gives a nervous twist.

**

Shiro wakes up alone, though the sheets are still warm and Keith-scented. An unread message icon blinks at him from his watch but he’d rather locate his boyfriend before reading it. He props himself up on an arm and looks around. Keith’s bag is sitting open on top of the dresser, his shoes still by the door. 

“Keith?”

“In here,” he calls from the bathroom, muffled as though brushing his teeth.

Shiro flops back down and taps the icon.

Sent just a few minutes ago, Keith sent: “We’re here! Excited to see you and your guy.”

A half-hearted thrill of nerves zings through him. There’s no more time left to let the anticipation build.

Shiro gets out of bed and goes to lean in the doorway. Keith’s hair is damp and gathered into a soft swoop that just barely reaches over the crest of his shoulder. He diligently flosses his teeth while staring at his reflection. When his dark blue eyes shift toward Shiro’s reflection, he pulls his hands away from his mouth and smiles. 

“They’re here,” Shiro says. 

“Yeah? Do I look okay?”

“You look great.” Shiro moves foward, smooths his thumb over the scar running up his cheek, and kisses the corner of his minty lips. “And you have great breath. They’ll be very impressed.”

Keith scoffs but turns his head a little to kiss Shiro dead on. He spins away from him to go back out into the room and rustles through the bag on the dresser. “What should I wear?”

“Whatever.”

“Shiro.”

“Whatever you want?” he suggests. “Seriously, honey. This is the casual part.”

He holds up a black shirt with a funny little tilt to his mouth. He always wears black shirts and he always looks great. Shiro laughs. The tilt turns into a smile and he laughs too. He turns away and tugs the baggy shirt he’d put on to nap in over his head and Shiro watches appreciatively. 

“Go get ready,” he scolds. Shiro obeys.

Shiro tries to tempt Keith after his shower, walking around in only a towel low around his hips, but Keith is too busy wringing his hands and picking long, oil black strands of wolf hair off of his shirt. 

“You’ve gotten a lot of messages from Keith, I haven’t read them,” Keith says with a tense jaw.

Shiro swallows a sigh and gives up on strutting. He swipes at the air above his watch to pull them up, not bothering to hide them at all.

_Keith: Holy shit, Allura is out of control isn’t she. Was I this bad?_  
She’s forcing me to get a haircut before tomorrow!!  
When are you and K coming down?  
Should I call him anything specific?? I’ve never met myself before…  
Shiroooo.  
Coran just told me he likes him better than me, confirmed lol 

Shiro looks beyond the projection and makes eye contact with Keith who now seems… well, a little more at ease somehow, as if he’d thought this Keith would be sending rude comments about him while waiting for them. 

Shiro gets dressed (fortified by the knowledge that Keith watches every second of it even though his towel strut had been unsuccessful) and they head out without much conversation at all. But he gets it. Keith won’t be settled until this meeting is over… he might not even be settled after that. If worse comes to worse they just have a couple days to get through and they can leave and spend the rest of the week together. Alone. Best case scenario, everything goes great. 

He’s not willing to let his guard down enough to hope for a best case scenario, but it’s possible. 

The doors whoosh open, Tabor and Keith glance toward them and conversation stops. The Keiths eyes meet and it’s almost like the air pressure in the room changes.

**

Keith’s heart must stop for a solid second. His lungs strain for air. This is nothing like meeting the older Keith, the one who instantly made him feel the need to strike out. This Keith is his age, his height. But he has a little weight on him and he’s never cut his hair that way. He’d never stand at that intimate distance with his own Tabor. And yet. 

“Hi,” Keith says, voice coming out meeker than he’d like.

“Hey,” Other Keith says, soft and full of wonder.

Shiro shifts beside him, pressing his hand to Keith’s lower back. Keith can feel a kiss of cold bleed through his shirt from the Galran arm and it grounds him. Which is good, because otherwise he’s sure he’d float toward this Keith until their bodies melded. He feels more of that uncanniness from earlier, but it’s mixed with something more. 

He doesn’t hate him on sight, but that’s the only reaction he can name. 

“This is strange,” Tabor says, a politically friendly timbre to his voice as he steps forward, his hand on his own Keith’s lower back. Keith minutely shakes his head against the disorienting mirroring going on. 

“It is,” Shiro says, just as friendly. “I’m sure introductions aren’t needed, but Keith, this is Keith.” 

Other Keith laughs and it’s a sweet sound. 

They move toward each other and shake hands. Keith almost expects to feel an endless feedback loop of touch against his palm, but it’s just like any other handshake. Tabor introduces himself next and the spell gives up a little. 

“How was the trip?” Other Keith asks, looking at Shiro but unable to stop glancing at Keith.

“It was fine,” Shiro answers. His hand moves from Keith’s lower back to wrap his arm around his waist. “Yours? Got caught in a meeting?”

This gives Tabor the chance to answer, and Other Keith the chance to look more directly at Keith. Keith hasn’t been able to tear his eyes away. Other Keith regards him with open curiosity. Keith hopes his face reflects the same.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Other Keith says in a bright tone.

“It’s nice to meet you too!” Keith says back, tone just as high and bright. 

He knows how fake he sounds, he just heard it coming out of Other Keith’s mouth. He knows he doesn’t mean for it to be fake, so he can only hope Other Keith doesn’t either. But still, he doesn’t hate him. He doesn’t want to fight him. He doesn’t want to talk back or insult him or overpower him. The more he grapples with sorting out his reaction, the more he wants to know this Keith. This person with his face and his family and his friends but a completely different life. And maybe this wedding isn’t the occasion for that. Other Keith and Tabor will be glued together, Keith and Shiro will be glued together. But the feeling remains. The deepest curiosity Keith has ever felt.

“The rehearsal is about to start,” Coran says from the other side of the room, arms flailing to gesture for them to gather and head out. “Tabor, Keith—no not you—” he waves Other Keith off. “I have a very special job for you two!”

Keith nods dutifully when all he wants to do is look at Shiro in alarm.

Inside the hall, Tabor and Keith sit with a seat full of some strange plant between them. They are to babysit it. Coran had warned them that if it grabbed one of them, they’d need someone else to pry it’s acidic tendrils off of them. Keith eyes it warily. 

“What’d he call this again?” he whispers.

Tabor chuckles. “The Altean words he used translate to Dead Love Plant.”

“Dead Love Plant,” Keith repeats, laughing. Tabor laughs too.

Keith sees Other Keith shoot them a glance from his spot next to Shiro at the altar. There’s no heat in it but Keith feels somehow guilty.

As Coran had explained, the Dead Love Plant is to be held by the officiant. If the plant doesn’t reach for either the bride or groom, their wedding will be blessed. If it does, Keith is unclear on what that’s supposed to mean except serious injury. It’s all symbolic, either way. Coran doesn’t want to hold it until he absolutely has to, but he wants it to “feel as though it’s part of the rehearsal, I believe that will please it.” Keith casts a suspicious look at it and its writhing tendrils and spikes. 

“Did you have one of these are your wedding?” Keith asks Tabor. 

Tabor tears his eyes away from the front where Romelle is fussily adjusting everyone’s positions at Coran’s instruction. Coran is probably the true bridezilla here, Keith thinks.

“No,” Tabor answers. “This is all Altea. Galra has no equivalent. We had a simple wedding, perhaps a bit more Earth than Galra.”

From what Keith knows, Galran weddings are little more than legal proceedings. In recent years, there’s been more pomp around the circumstances. The new post-war Galra is slowly becoming less severe. 

Keith nods, not sure how to continue the conversation. His own Tabor can happily sit in silence for 24 solid vargas of travel, he wouldn’t expect much different from this one.

“It was very romantic,” Tabor continues. “And trend-setting. Younger Galrans tend to prefer more ceremony now too. Earth customs are quite popular, but they borrow from other cultures too. I like the wedding party aspect.” He gestures to the front, where all the Paladins stand in a line, laughing about something Coran is saying. “It’s a nice symbol of family.”

“Who was your best man?” Keith asks. “Anyone I know?”

“Kolivan. He’s been like a father to me since losing my fathers. My closest friend, other than my husband.” He smiles fondly, looking back up at his husband. “He was at my fathers’ marriage as their witness, he was able to quote their vows as part of his speech.”

Keith looks over the plant’s reaching tendrils at the side of Tabor’s face and feels a pang of affection for his own. There’s so much he doesn’t quite know, things that he’s hinted at in his sterile but closed off way. Seeing how this Tabor looks at Other Keith… Keith hopes his own Tabor can find that. But for now, he wonders what he can learn from this one.

“Were you close to your fathers?” Keith asks. His own Tabor never mentions them.

Tabor hesitates before answering. “I was, as a child. Once I became a Blade, I very rarely saw them. We were always stationed apart. It was supposed to be a way to preserve our family line. I suppose it worked.”

He chews on his next question for a long time, weighing the risk and reward… but this Tabor seems… more patient? Kinder? Softer? Something. “How did they die?” 

Tabor glances his way, questioning. “Perhaps you didn’t know them in your own reality. They died in service of Voltron and the greater mission. Keith and Shiro knew them well,” he says with a nod toward the front.

Embarrassed, Keith nods and looks away. 

He really should know who they were. The Blades of Marmora still operate on the old rules for any past personnel. Utmost secrecy of other agents. When a Blade dies, their duty ends but their rights remain forever. Untarnished. Once a Blade, always a Blade. In life or death. Keith remembers the oath as well as anyone.

But he thinks about it. He steals a glance at Tabor’s profile, mentally running it against other Galra he’s met and known and worked with. Tabor has the lighter, more lavender skin tone and white hair of some Galra. His ears are more elven than cat-like. But his jaw is more squared than pointed…

Oh. 

“Ulaz,” he whispers, not really meaning to.

Tabor looks his way, mouth in a somber line. 

“You look a lot like him,” he says, realizing how true it is as he speaks.

Tabor nods. “That’s what everyone says, yes.” He smiles a little. “Did you know Thace as well?”

Keith’s eyebrows shoot up. Oh. “I never realized they were…” Married. Together. At all familiar with each other. “God. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought this up.”

“It’s okay,” he says, sounding like he means it. “I’m surprised you didn’t know already.”

So is Keith.

“Oh, good!” Coran says, startling the both of them by suddenly appearing before them. “It didn’t get either of you? Good boy,” he says, cooing the last bit at the plant. “These are terribly rare, you know? Barely been brought back from extinction, it truly is incredible. Well! Dinner commences shortly, gentlemen. How’d the ceremony look from here?”

“Looked great,” Tabor says, standing with a strident smile on his face. Other Keith appears at his side and wraps his arms around his middle. “Especially you,” Tabor says directly into the top of Keith’s head. Other Keith laughs against his chest and murmurs a “thank you, baby” that makes Keith feel a little sideways and out of place. 

“Yeah,” Keith agrees, not able to lie very well. He hadn’t paid much attention at all with the toxic, sentient plant sitting next to him. He looks over Coran’s shoulder for Shiro who appears to be giving a white-faced Lance a little pep talk.

Coran follows his gaze behind him and tuts in disapproval. “I just told him that the plant dissolves your skin and injects toxins directly into the muscle and now he’s all concerned. I told him if the wedding is to be blessed, it won’t be a problem at all!”

Keith chokes on a nervous laugh. 

**

“I didn’t know Thace and Ulaz were Tabor’s parents,” Keith whispers to Shiro as they take their seats at dinner. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”

“I didn’t know you didn’t know?” Shiro whispers back.

“Keith was watching us talk the whole time,” Keith murmurs, looking across the flower and candle laden table at the other couple. 

“So was I,” Shiro admits.

He had been. When his attention wasn’t required, he’d been watching them. It’d been nice to see their significant others getting along so easily. For Keith, it’d probably been weird to see his double talking to his husband. But if it’d been a problem, they’d have all been well aware by now.

“Did we look too buddy buddy?” Keith asks, concerned. Shiro knows he thinks he’s earned Keith’s ire, but Shiro sees no evidence. He’s seen a jealous Keith many a time.

“No,” Shiro assures. Before they can discuss further, Allura and Lance enter to the applause of all the gathered guests—the court and friends and family and politicians from all over the galaxy— and sit at the head of their table. 

Coran gives a sweet speech about their coming nuptials, thanks everyone for coming, speaks to the strength of New Altea and the promise of their union, et cetera et cetera and then dinner is served. 

“Keith,” Keith says, friendly, from across the table. “I hope my husband didn’t bore you.” 

Shiro can hear the slight challenge in it meaning Keith can probably feel the challenge in his own bones. Shiro takes a sip of wine and watches on, ready to intervene if he has to.

“Hey, now,” Tabor laughs. 

“I was asking him about your wedding,” Keith says, his voice coming out higher and lighter than usual. A generous white flag. 

Keith looks pleasantly surprised. “Oh. What’d he say?” 

“That it was very romantic,” his Keith says. 

Keith shoots a pleased glance at his husband and lets it go. He takes the opportunity to reminisce on their wedding and includes Pidge and Hunk in it too. Shiro’s Keith relaxes as he listens in, seeming genuinely interested. Shiro puts a hand on his thigh under the table and squeezes. 

All things considered, this is going well. 

“That was the day I earned my first hangover,” Pidge says proudly.

“An honor, I’m sure,” Tabor teases. 

Hunk casts a sneaky grin toward the head of the table. “Dude, remember catching Allura and Lance in the bathroom—”

“Allura and Lance are right here, may I remind you,” Allura says, cutting into the conversation. 

“Maybe we should return the favor and get caught in the bathroom at _your_ wedding,” Keith suggests before pressing a kiss to Tabor’s cheek.

“By all means, please do,” Allura says. “We expect a level of revelry I hope you will all feel free to provide.”

“Yeah! We want memories and babies made at this wedding.”

“Lance!” Allura laughs. 

“Any babies made here must be named after the princess and her consort, them’s the rules,” Lance carries on. 

Keith’s finger tips rain gently on Shiro’s hand where it still rests of his thigh. Shiro flips his hand over and their fingers slide together. 

Shiro can only imagine how hard some pieces of this weekend are going to be for him. He can’t predict how the swells of grief will hit Keith, but he knows they will. He knows that sometimes sorrow comes in obvious places — seeing a picture of a lost loved one, hearing their favorite song — and sometimes it sneaks up. 

He can’t help but lean over and kiss Keith’s cheek. He wants the kiss to say that he knows. And he appreciates his presence. And he’s grateful to have him. And that he loves him. 

“Ayyy, you two might get caught somewhere too if you aren’t careful,” Lance teases when he sees the kiss. 

Keith’s cheeks pinken and he smiles in a pinched way that could read as embarrassed. Shiro knows that isn’t it. 

“Yeah, maybe,” Shiro counters, infusing his voice with innuendo. Keith squeezes his hand gratefully under the table. 

Rather than torture Keith through an unending night of eating and dancing and mingling, they duck out right before dessert. Shiro hears Allura ask a waiter to wrap some up and send it to their rooms. She knows, she has to. Shiro sees how Keith and her look at each other with x-ray vision. He doesn’t know the full content of the conversation they had that first meeting, but he knows it has stuck with both of them. Out of anyone here, Shiro included, she may understand Keith’s feelings about all this the best. 

They walk the deserted halls together, hand in hand, comfortably and sadly silent. The music from the dining hall gets more and more distant as they go. 

“Are you okay?” Shiro asks after awhile.

“Yeah,” he says, sad but honest. 

“You can tell me anything,” Shiro says lamely. As if Keith doesn’t already know that, as if what he actually means wasn’t “please tell me how you really feel.”

“I know,” Keith says. 

They stay silent until they get back to their room where a handsomely wrapped box of truffles and fine pastries awaits already. Shiro kicks his shoes off and looks through it eagerly.

“I miss Allura,” Keith says, standing stiffly close to the door still. “So much. And I wish my Lance and my Allura were living this life. That’s all.”

Shiro sets the box down again and crosses to take him in his arms.

“That’s a lot,” Shiro says softly. 

Keith nods. 

“You don’t have to go tomorrow,” Shiro says, feeling disappointed and selfish even as he says it.

“I want to go, I’m excited to go,” Keith says. “It’s just complicated.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

“Just know that it’s complicated,” he says, pulling away to smile softly up at him.

“Okay.” 

“And kiss me as much as humanly possible,” Keith says, the sadness replaced by mischief. 

“Aye, aye, captain,” Shiro purrs at him. 

Shiro moves in for a kiss right then, but Keith blocks his lips with one held up finger. “I’m sorry we left early… I won’t do that to you tomorrow, I promise.”

“You absolutely can if you have to,” Shiro says. He kisses Keith’s finger as he waits for him to move it.

Keith shakes his head. “I won’t.” 

Shiro nods to show that his message has been received. Keith lets his hand drop to Shiro’s shoulder.

“What do you want to do tonight?” Shiro asks, hovering just a millimeter away from Keith’s lips. 

“Eat dessert and fuck,” Keith answers, voice low and dangerous. 

Shiro extracts one arm to grab the boxed up desserts and uses the rest of his body to eagerly shove Keith toward the bed. The sound of Keith’s laugher makes everything in Shiro light up.

The sex is good and fun and sweet, not just because Keith’s mouth tastes like chocolate and cream when they kiss. It’s because it’s always good and fun and sweet. It’s because Shiro loves this person and this body with all his heart. It’s because Keith pours everything into it. It’s because they work together. The give and take of their bodies together, the press of Keith’s fingernails into his back, the sounds that escape Keith’s lips, the subtle sways of power between them as they go from Shiro on top of him to Keith writhing in his lap while pinning Shiro’s hands above his head…

They’d left dinner so early but it’s so late by the time Keith falls asleep. He’s soft and warm and long against Shiro’s side. The room smells like them, like sex, glorious and heady. Shiro feels as physically tired as he would after a long workout but emotionally he’s fully charged. He kisses Keith’s forehead and tries to sleep too.

A new message comes through and Shiro is tempted to ignore it until morning but sleep isn’t coming anyway.

_Keith: Does he hate me?_

Shiro doesn’t think so, not at all. But he’s not sure what the feeling actually is.

_Shiro: No  
Keith: Okay… why’d you two leave so early?_

Keith’s business isn’t his to tell. His secrets are Shiro’s to keep. The things Keith tells Shiro are Shiro’s things to shield from others unless Keith sees fit to tell them himself. He feels protective over the reason they left. He feels beholden to him more deeply than he’s ever felt to anyone else.

Another message comes through when Shiro takes too long to answer. 

_Keith: I’m just hoping I didn’t come off as a territorial asshole, that’s all._  
Shiro: You didn’t! We left because we were tired.  
Keith: It seemed like it was more than that.  
Shiro: Don’t be paranoid. 

Shiro knows that if they both get their hackles up about each other and if they’re both untrusting of the other’s motivations, this will be a disaster. He wants to ask Keith what his opinion of _his_ Keith is but he doesn’t want to poke a sleeping giant either. The new message notification flashes and it appears Keith is trying to answer that question all on his own.

_Keith: Tabor really likes him. I like him too, but Tabor’s talked to him more than I have. He said he’s “really kind,” one of Tabor’s top fave traits in a person._  
Shiro: He is. I’m glad to hear that.  
Keith: If I’ve offended him, please just tell me. I want to make it right.  
Shiro: No one offended him.  
Keith: Are you sure?  
Shiro: Yes. If you had, we’d be fighting. ;)  
Keith: Fair enough! Protective boyfriend mode, activated.  
Shiro: You bet!  
Keith: You like him, huh? :)  
Shiro: I love him. 

Keith sends a blast of confetti at that before saying goodnight. Shiro falls asleep happy to be in love and happy to be able to tell his best friend all about it.

**

They’re barely out of the shower before Shiro’s been summoned to a bridal emergency. Shiro kisses him on his way out the door and promises to see him at breakfast. Keith sits in a towel on the bed looking around in the stark silence his absence creates.

He’s feeling very marooned when someone knocks softly at the door. 

“One second,” he calls, scrambling into a pair of clean pants and a shirt on his way to the door. 

Hunk and Pidge stand on the other side of the door, grinning at him. They’re wearing matching track suits with “Groom Squad” embroidered across the back. When they see him eyeing it, they laugh.

“It’s Lance,” Pidge explains simply, which does indeed say plenty. 

“You guys aren’t caught up in the emergency stuff?” Keith asks uncertainly.

“Emergency?” Hunk asks. “Oh, is Allura freaking out?”

“Probably,” Pidge says with a nod. 

“Cold feet?” Keith asks, feeling somehow disappointed.

They both shake their heads. “I bet that carnivorous plant ate Coran or something,” Pidge says dismissively. “I don’ know what’s going on but we wanted to go on a walk before breakfast, want to come?”

Keith agrees to it with a nod and moves to shove his feet into his shoes. 

“You guys left before the fun really got started,” Hunk says, leaning in the doorway. 

Keith grabs a sweater and joins them in the hall. “Yeah, we were tired, sorry about that.”

Pidge and Hunk exchange a look, Pidge nods minutely at Hunk.

“Everything okay so far? Everyone been cool?” he asks as they walk. 

“Yeah, everything has been great, thanks.”

The two of them exchange looks again. “Has Keith been nice?”

“Yeah, yeah, he’s been nice. Tabor too. Everyone’s been great, I was just super tired.”

They seem satisfied with his answer and happily lead him out to the gardens. Pidge deftly hops up onto a low stone wall to walk along its top as they go. 

“You two are cute,” Hunk says now. “Shiro’s soooo sappy about you, you know?”

Keith can’t help but grin. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Shiro so happy.” Pidge’s foot slips off the wall and Keith catches her with his elbow. She laughs as she rights herself and thanks him by patting the top of his head. “I’m glad the chat program works, I think that’s helped him a lot. You too, probably, yeah? Your Pidge said you’ve been doing a lot better.”

“Better?” Keith asks. He’d never bothered to review the messages the Pidges had been sending back and forth, he figured it was none of his business.

“Yikes,” Pidge mutters. “We just give each other updates about everyone is all. She said you seem better now than you have since the war. That’s it.”

Hunk and Pidge both watch Keith with some degree of nervousness. 

Keith shrugs. “I guess I am,” he says as a way to dispel their concerns.

“I don’t want you to think we like, gossip or anything…”

“You guys can gossip all you want,” Keith says, meaning it. He finds it hard to justify why two counterparts shouldn’t be as open as they want to be with each other. “I think it’s cool you guys are friends. You should use the chat program too.”

She perks up. “We totally should. I mean technically, the beta phase isn’t over until you go back to your reality, we wanted to run through our findings before trying that but..” She hops down from the wall and leans against it to pull up a confusing screen full of code from her watch. She continues muttering to herself.

“There she goes,” Hunk says. “Leave her.” 

So the two of them continue walking. Keith asks Hunk every question that comes to mind while they make the long loop around the gardens. Hunk counters his questions with questions about Keith’s Hunk. 

“Do you think we’d get along?”

Keith has to laugh at that. “You two would get along _too_ well, probably. I bet you’d both burst into tears if you ever met.”

Hunk tears up a little and nods as though Keith has confirmed a dream for him. “You’re so right.” He laughs as he rubs his eyes. “I hope we can meet someday. You and Shiro keep this thing up and I’m sure there’ll be a reason to meet up.” He elbows Keith suggestively. “Have you two talked longterm stuff?”

“Not really.”

“But you’re totally keeping this stuff up right?”

“We’re boyfriends, so yeah. I mean… we decided to… call each other that. So I guess it’s official.”

“Awww, buddy! But no offense, traveling across realities to meet up for clandestine little weekends away together is already pretty dang official.”

Keith “heh”s and looks down at his feet to hide the heat in his cheeks. “I guess so.”

They close the loop by coming up to Pidge again. She closes the code window with a flourish and beams up at them. “Keith, I’m sending you back with stuff.”

“Wouldn’t imagine anything different.”

“You know, if the Pidges get along and you think the Hunks would get along… do you think the Lances and the Shiros and oh, I don’t know, the Yous, would get along too?” Hunk asks with philosophical airs.

Keith considers. “The Lances might be too similar. The Shiros? Absolutely.”

“And the Keiths?” Pidge presses as they walk back toward the door to the inside. 

“I think so,” he says, that high-pitched too-friendly voice reappearing. 

“I think so too,” Hunk says. “You two are like completely different, but I think you two just need some real one-on-one face-time.”

Pidge tilts her head back and forth in thought before nodding resolutely. “Yeah, definitely.”

The rest of the day speeds by. Keith finds Shiro again at breakfast and they both get swept back up into final wedding preparations. Keith is co-opted by Lance and his half of the wedding party to get ready together with music blasting and cocktails flowing. Keith helps Hunk and Pidge into their suits and ties more so for the friendly ritual of it than any actual need. Lance asks him to help him with his cufflinks and asks for his opinion on his vows. Swept up in the warm feeling of welcome, the booze, and the genuine affection he feels for these people and their counterparts back home, Keith hugs Lance in lieu of offering any real feedback. 

He leaves them behind to get to his seat in the ceremony hall. Veronica pats the spot next to her and smiles up at him. “Prime real estate for Admiral Shirogane’s plus one,” she teases. “Lance and Allura are so excited you’re here.”

Keith looks around at the familiar faces dotted amongst the ostentatious floral arrangements and melt-proof ice sculptures. Everything in the room glitters in the golden light streaming in through floor to ceiling windows. When everyone goes their seats and the processional music begins, Keith feels swept up in everything. In the scale of the room, the beauty of the decorations, the romance and excitement. He feels his heart squeezed by an invisible fist. He feels his eyes prickle.

Coran leads the procession, the love death plant thing in his arms. It seems bigger than it had yesterday as it undulates and slithers. Coran wipes tears out of his eyes with no regard to it at all. After him, they walk in pairs. Other Keith and Pidge, Shiro and Hunk. Shiro sends a soft smile his way as he passes and Keith feels the first of the happy, mournful, confused tears track down his cheeks.

Everyone stands when Lance and Allura enter. Keith feels as though the air is sucked out of his lungs. Her dress, snow white and stark against the brown of her skin, is dappled in prisms that bathe the whole room in flashes of rainbow. Her smile is so unbridled and wild and un-royal but utterly her. Lance echoes the grin on his own face. He wears the dress uniform of an Altean king, white and gold and awe-invoking. 

Keith is deliriously happy and bone-crushingly sad all at once. Veronica leans close to him and circles her hand around his forearm, a simple gesture of support. He feels like his knees could give out at any second. He feels like he could float up to the domed ceiling 50 feet above. 

The ceremony passes in a dream-like haze. Keith’s face is wet and he fears the collar of his shirt is too. Shiro keeps sending him loving glances and Keith returns them, but otherwise he can’t take his eyes off Allura and Lance. 

And then it’s over. Allura and Lance walk back down the aisle to thunderous cheering and applause. She sweeps past and pauses less than a second to kiss Keith’s cheek. When the wedding party follows, Shiro stops to hug him until Pidge pokes him in the back to keep him walking. 

By the time the reception starts, Keith feels more even-keeled. Shiro has his arm loosely around his waist as they talk to a mixed group of Paladins and Paladin family members. Keith and Tabor are off to the side standing close and having what looks to be a very romantic conversation. Everyone else talks about how nice the ceremony was, but Keith can barely remember a word that was said. Again, it feels like this world is a happier one. He swallows the bitterness down along with sip of something a lot like champagne. 

When they’re all seated at a table after dinner has concluded and the dancing has started, a hand falls on Keith’s shoulder. 

“Can I steal you for a second?” Other Keith asks, a smile in his voice. “Shiro, can I steal him?”

“He’s his own man,” Shiro says. He smiles at the two of them and Keith knows he’s relieved and proud. Of him. Proud of being here _with him_. “Go ahead.”

“I want to introduce you to some people, are you in?” Other Keith asks, an air of charming mystery to him.

“Sure!” He still can’t shake the faux brightness in his tone whenever he talks to him. He thinks it’s at the very least better than being hostile. Not that he feels the need to be hostile anyway. 

Other Keith hooks his arm through his and leads him through the crowd of familiar-unfamiliar faces. Keith still feels nervous around this Keith. There’s a sharpness to him that Keith doesn’t recognize on his own face, but for all the observing he’s been able to do it doesn’t seem like a bad sharpness. Besides, Shiro loves him. And he can see why.

First, Other Keith leads him to a table full of Blades. Kolivan stands, claps Other Keith on the shoulder affectionately, and then turns to clasp arms with him before maneuvering him into a chair. 

They’re a couple drinks in, clearly, because they’re talkative. They ask him questions about his reality, tease Other Keith with embarrassing stories. Some of the stories line up with some of Keith’s own embarrassing stories.

“Yes, but did you end up sneaking out of his room holding your underpants in one hand after?” one of them snickers when Keith says he’s saved his own Tabor before too.

Other Keith just smirks proudly. “Maybe if you’d done more sneaking around, you’d be married too, huh?”

They laugh uproariously and elbow each other. Keith finds himself laughing along, buoyed by their happiness. It’s good to see them like this. 

“All right, all right, peace,” Other Keith says, holding up his hands. “You’ll find a very lovely and buff Galran someday.”

“One who can lift me over her head?” the Blade asks, laughing robustly.

“Of course! But we have other people to meet. Keith?”

Keith shakes hands around the table, heart warmed by their easy acceptance, and lets Keith lead him to meet some of his fellow parliament members. Some of them he knows in his own reality, but most of them are only vaguely familiar. They eye the two of them with a mixture of amusement and surprise when Other Keith introduces him as Shiro’s boyfriend.

In a way, it’s almost like having a brother. As Other Keith introduces him around, everyone accepts him easily. Like a twin of a friend that they’d never met before.

But even so, they still haven’t had a direct conversation with each other. Keith has no clue what they’d talk about anyway. He wonders if Other Keith is struggling with the same thought. As they walk, Keith desperately tries to think of _something_ to say or ask. He can’t. All he can manage are niceties and small talk. 

It’s better than fighting and hostility, but Keith also feels a desperate magnet-like pull to be close to him and he can’t shut it down.

“Oh!” Other Keith says, stopping in the middle of the dance floor to look around. “Saved the best for last and then I’ll let you get back to Shiro, I bet he’s missing his date.” 

He spots whoever he’s looking for and he and Keith walk in that direction. 

Keith doesn’t even have time to wonder who could possibly be the best in this bizarre mirror universe before he sees the back of his mother’s head and a tuxedoed arm around her shoulders.

“Mom, Dad,” Other Keith says warmly. 

Keith’s heart stops.

Krolia turns and smiles when she sees her son. The man next to her turns too, face open and warm. 

“I wanted to introduce you all,” Other Keith says. Keith’s insides feel like jello.

“Oh, wow, look at that,” his father says with a voice Keith can barely remember, a voice not even his dreams can get quite right. The accent, the depth, the smile inherent in the tone. 

Keith is speechless.

Krolia moves forward and kisses her own son on the cheek and then Keith is being pulled into a hug that feels like his mothers’ but isn’t.

“It’s like we had twins,” she says, pulling away to look at the both of them standing next to each other.

And suddenly, Keith feels like the bargain bin Keith in this situation. 

His father hovers uncertainly for a moment before extending a hand to him. Keith takes it and rather than shake, he holds the hand a second too long before dropping it like its burned him. It has. It has burned him. 

“So nice to meet you, we hear you’re dating our Shiro?” the man asks. Keith thinks his voice belongs in a country song playing through a staticky car radio back in Texas. Keith wonders if this voice is even right, if this is even the same man as his own father. He can’t take his eyes off his face. Is that the right chin? The right eyes? The right hair? It’s gone salt and pepper gray a little around the temples. His father had died with pure black hair and an unlined face. This man has smile lines around his eyes.

“Uh,” Keith says when he realizes they’re waiting on an answer from him. “I’m sorry, this is just…” 

“Strange?” Krolia generously provides. “I’m sure it is! It’s strange for us too. You two even have the same scar.”

And this Krolia smiles easier. This Krolia has her partner’s arm around her waist. Are they married here? When did they marry? What’s the story? Keith had known that Other Keith got to grow up with both of them and he had hated him a little for that, way before they’d met, but he doesn’t know the details. The timeline. He knows Other Keith had spent time resenting his mother for being lost in space. He spent a whole lifetime mourning and resenting his mother for disappearing without a trace, he spent so long simmering with hate and absolute longing that even still the emotions don’t always sort themselves out right when they pop up. If he’d had her all along, he wouldn’t have resented her. The thought makes him hate Other Keith.

The fact that Other Keith thought this would be a good thing makes him hate him too.

“I’m sorry,” Keith says, shaking his head to clear the thoughts. 

His father. Standing right here. Not a figure in an ominous dream, not a simulation designed to break him during the trials, not an aching hole in his chest. Just alive and standing right here. Keith’s body feels like vapor, inside and out.

“I just need some air, excuse me,” he hears himself saying. He gives them what he hopes is a smile and not a grimace before turning on his heel and darting through the crowd. 

**

Shiro’s had his eye on Keith the whole night, eagerly awaiting his return but happy to see him enjoying himself and getting along with his counterpart. He’d lost him in the crowd at some point when Allura had pulled him into a dance and was looking for him when he saw a dark, familiar head dodge through the crowd a few feet away. He was headed for the door.

“Shiro, I swear I didn’t mean for it to go like that,” Keith says, breathless as he approaches. 

“What happened?” 

“I introduced him to my parents and he ran off—”

Shiro doesn’t wait to hear more. He breaks off from the group and follows. 

He hadn’t thought of this. He’s an idiot. He’s an absolute idiot. He hadn’t been sure that Keith’s parents would even come, but he could have asked. He bursts through the main doors Keith had left through and doesn’t see him anywhere. 

The wedding was _massive_ , this could have been easily avoided. Shiro had spent so much time worrying about the Keiths liking each other and hadn’t stopped to even fucking consider this.

He figures Keith would go outside. He turns down the hallway that leads to the royal gardens and hopes he’s there. He hopes he’s not back in the room packing or stealing Shiro’s plane to get the fuck out. He passes through the automatic door to the outside and is hit with the scent of roses and freshly cut grass. 

Keith leans with his hands planted on a low stone wall at the very edge of the garden. His shoulders are hunched but he’s perfectly still.

“I’m fine,” he says when Shiro is almost to him. 

“What happened?” Shiro slides his hand over Keith’s shoulder and nudges him to turn.

“Nothing,” Keith breathes, turning and accepting Shiro’s hug.

They stand like that for awhile, not moving or speaking at all. When Keith pulls away, he looks up, way beyond the top of Shiro’s head and breathes through the nose like he’s trying not to cry.

“It’s okay,” Shiro whispers, one hand coming up to cup Keith’s cheek. To cry, he means. Shiro thinks this is a perfectly appropriate occasion for it.

“It’s fine, yeah,” Keith agrees, shaking his head. “I’m going to go back in, I don’t want to…” he trails off and makes a circular motion in front of his face with one hand. 

“I’m going to talk to him, that was shitty,” Shiro promises. He can hear the anger in his own voice. He’d thought it was going well… He knew that this Keith’s father was dead, Shiro has told him before. 

“He didn’t do it on purpose,” Keith says. 

Shiro is skeptical. 

“He didn’t, Shiro,” Keith repeats, more solid. “I’m not mad at him or upset with him at all I’m just…” He makes a vague gesture with his hand. “Getting some air.” He disentangles himself from Shiro to sit on the low wall. Shiro sits next to him, shielding him with his body and keeping his head close. Keith leans into him and brings a hand up to hold Shiro’s head against his.

“I’m still going to talk to him,” Shiro says. He will, whether it’s tonight or next week or a month from now, he’s going to talk to him. 

“He didn’t do it on purpose,” Keith repeats.

“How do you know that?”

“I just do,” he says. “And shouldn’t you too? He’s your best friend, would he do something like this on purpose?”

Everything Shiro knows about his own Keith points to no. And if Keith thinks it wasn’t on purpose… well. “Maybe he didn’t, but it was still thoughtless.”

Keith shrugs. “It’s fine.”

They’re quiet for awhile. Quiet enough that Shiro can hear the obnoxious pop music that must have been Lance’s choosing all the way from the great hall despite being on the opposite end of the castle from it.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Shiro asks.

“It was kind of nice seeing my father,” Keith admits, quick enough to tell Shiro that he’d been thinking about it already.

“I can imagine.”

“I really did just need some air,” Keith continues. “I felt like I was going to have a panic attack. It reminded me of my trials.”

Shiro was there for his own Keith’s trials. He’d had to watch as he begged the hologram of his mother to come home while she callously looked down on him and told him he was a disappointment. He’d seen himself die a hundred times over while Keith nearly broke over not being able to save him. It occurs to him now that this Keith’s trials were probably different.

“What happened in your trials?”

“I saw Shiro abandoning me and my father telling me to wait for my mother to get home while the house burned around us,” he summarizes. 

Shiro doesn’t say anything in response. From Shiro’s memories of his Keith’s, he’s sure there’s a lot more detail to it than he’s expressing. He understands why.

“They must all think I’m such a wimp, I keep running out,” Keith muses. He drops his hand onto Shiro’s lap and wiggles his fingers at him until Shiro takes his hand in his.

“No, they understand,” Shiro assures. 

Anyone would.

Keith nods, the motion moving Shiro’s head to nod faintly too. They laugh a little.

“Let’s go back in,” Keith says, soft. 

“You sure?”

“I owe Allura a dance,” he says very seriously.

**

Shiro falls asleep almost immediately after they shower and get into bed. Keith isn’t so lucky. The rest of the wedding had been fine. Shiro and Keith didn’t run into Other Keith or his parents again. Allura had insisted on dancing through two songs, talking the whole time. He hadn’t asked her anything about the convergence point or about the other Alluras. Seeing her in the wedding dress and kissing Lance and glowing with happiness had pushed the question away. 

And so had the other events of the evening.

After awhile of not feeling any more tired, Keith gets out of bed and grabs Shiro’s sweater on the way out the door. He knows Coran has a collection of every known tea in the universe in the kitchen by the Paladin living quarters. He has to have something to knock Keith out.

He turns the corner and runs headlong into someone. After a chorus of matching curses, Keith springs back and looks into his own face.

“Shit.”

“Fuck.”

“You scared the hell out of me,” Other Keith says, clutching his chest. He laughs, nervously.

“Yeah, no kidding,” Keith says on an exhale. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay.”

Keith nods and moves to step around him. “Well, good night.”

“Actually,” he says, hand shooting out to stop him. “I was um. I couldn’t sleep, I was going to see if you were up.”

“Me?” Keith asks, incredulous. 

“Yeah.” He shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

“Why?”

“To talk,” he says with an uncertain shrug. 

Keith hesitates. He stares at him, trying to detect anything nefarious. Yeah, he’d told Shiro that Other Keith hadn’t done what he’d done on purpose, but had he? He was just trying to de-escalate the situation, he hadn’t wanted to be the catalyst for another fight between them.

“Kitchens?” Keith suggests. A neutral enough ground, maybe. 

“Sure,” Other Keith says, taking a step in that direction and waiting for Keith to join him.

The lights slowly brighten as they enter, settling at a dim light designed not to wake up any night-time snacker too much. The glow makes Keith feel more at ease. Other Keith sits on a stool at the island and watches Keith warily. 

“Do you want tea?” Keith asks. He busies himself with the process, feeling in control. 

Other Keith nods. “Whatever you’re having.”

Keith finds the mugs and pulls two out. He still doesn’t have a clue what to say to this man. Silence hangs between them, heavy and opaque. Other Keith watches him move around the kitchen and picks at his cuticles.

“I’m sorry for earlier,” Other Keith says, finally.

“It’s okay,” Keith says.

“It isn’t. I didn’t think. I thought you’d get a kick out of seeing them, I should have known better.”

Keith weighs his answers. Part of him wants to be petulant and yell at him. Another part of him wants to tell him it’s okay again. A small but strong part of him wants to say that he did. He sets a steaming mug in front of him and settles himself at a stool directly across from him. 

“I just wanted you to feel welcome and I wanted to show Shiro that we get along and I fucked it up. I think I just thought that I’d have liked to meet them in another reality, so why wouldn’t you? A big blindspot…” He laughs a humorless laugh and wraps his hands around the mug. “He’s probably pissed, right?”

“No,” Keith answers. “I told him you didn’t do it on purpose.”

“You did?” he asks, looking up in surprise.

Keith nods.

“Why?”

Keith shrugs. “I didn’t want to start another fight between you.”

He looks marginally relieved. “I saw you two in the garden, I came after you because I wanted to talk then but you two were…” he trails off and looks down into his tea. 

Keith doesn’t prompt him to continue. 

After awhile, Other Keith clears his throat and looks up. “I want Shiro to be happy.”

“I do too,” Keith says, feeling defensive.

“I know you do. But part of him being happy is us getting along. So if there’s anything I can do to make it up to you for earlier, I’ll do it.” 

Keith doesn’t know what to say. Again. He just looks at him. He looks sincere. He seems sincere. He sounds sincere. 

Keith wants to get along with him, desperately. And not just for Shiro’s sake. He supposes he could just say that.

“I did get a kick out of seeing them,” he admits instead. 

Other Keith looks surprised but doesn’t ask any questions.

“I guess I would have liked a warning or something but… it was nice to see them together. My father alive. He’s handsome, you know? And now I remember this voice. So.” He clears his throat and stares intently at the countertop.

“I should have asked if it was okay,” he says. 

“It’s okay,” Keith says for what feels like the hundredth time the last two days. He wants _one person_ to just take his word on that. He is okay, it is okay, everything is okay. 

Other Keith watches him closely. Neither of them say anything. Keith gets a long look at his face and at the slope of his shoulders. His cheeks aren’t as hollow as his own. His scar is lighter. His body, Keith realizes, is mirroring his exactly in a way he knows isn’t intentional. He sits up straighter and folds his hands in his lap to break the effect. 

He nods. “Okay,” he says. Keith can tell he believes him. “Did you know for sure I hadn’t meant it to be mean?” he asks, curious.

“I wasn’t sure.”

“Are you sure now?”

Keith nods. “You’ve been kind to me otherwise.” Other Keith had been nothing but generous. Aside from the small verbal warning about Tabor, he’d been completely friendly. 

Other Keith lets out a relieved breath. “This might be really rich of me, but can I ask how he died?”

The fact of his father’s death feels mutable, sometimes. Most days now, it’s an echo of grief. Something that happened to another person a long time ago. Today, it’s fresh and harshly lit. Other Keith’s face is open and caring. 

“He’d gone back into a burning house to check for survivors one last time and the house collapsed.”

Other Keith closes his eyes like he feels the pain himself. Maybe in some weird way, he does. “I can’t imagine…” he whispers. “Shiro said you were orphaned, but mom’s around now…?”

“She’d gone back to space after I was born to keep them away from the Blue Lion. My dad didn’t really talk about her too much. I assumed she was a drug addict living on the road or something.”

“You didn’t know you were Galran?”

He shakes his head. “Not until I met the Blades of Marmora.”

Other Keith shakes his head, sad. 

“You always knew?” Keith asks. He can’t imagine what his life would be like if he’d always known, though he supposed he has a good enough glimpse with this Keith.

“Always,” he says. “I don’t know what made it so she didn’t have to leave to defend us, maybe she got word out to the other Blades to draw attention away. I can ask her if you’d like…” He looks up. “Or I can just let you live your life, I’m sorry. I just… I’ve always had answers…”

Keith shrugs. “I’ve rarely had answers, it’s okay. Maybe someday I’ll ask you to ask.”

He nods. “Well. They were together my whole life. Have you seen her change her skin color? You’ve probably seen Allura do it. Same deal. She just looked like this massively tall, vaguely Asian woman when we went out in public.” He laughs fondly. “People always tried to guess where she was from.”

Keith smiles at the thought. 

“She got bored on Earth, I think. She would just build these high tech toys and kitchen appliances and things. She’d made this basically invisible eco-skeleton suit for dad because she hated how dangerous his job was and how fragile his weak human body was.” 

Ah. So that’s the difference. Keith couldn’t imagine any version of his father who wouldn’t jump at the occasion to help others, even risking his own life. As angry as he had been that he’d gone in one last time and died, he’s always been proud too. 

“Shiro said you spent a long time being mad at her,” Keith prompts.

Other Keith nods, but he has the decency to look a little guilty. “After Kerberos failed, my mom got some intel and knew things were really kicking off. She told us she was being called into active duty again and said she’d keep in contact and come back soon and then she went dark. I lost Shiro and my mom in the same year. I was furious.”

“So you spent two years in the quantum abyss being mad?”

“No, I spent a week not talking to her and then we fought a lot and then we caught up and got over it. But, we’d get into arguments all the time too… It was a complicated time. I was away from Tabor for all of that and worried about Voltron and everything, you know… I probably wasn’t the best to be around.”

Keith huffs a laugh. “You never thought she was dead when she was out there?”

“I had her blade, I knew she was alive. If I’d been worried about her death the whole time, I wouldn’t have been so mad. You hadn’t even known that was a sign, huh?”

“Nope. Would have been nice.”

“I’m sure a lot of things from my life would have been nice in yours, huh? I’m…” he trails off and takes a weary breath. “I’m really sorry about that.”

Keith shrugs. “I’ve made due.”

“Are you happy?” Other Keith asks after a more comfortable stretch of silence.

“Yeah,” Keith says easily. “I’m really happy, actually. There’s just been a lot to process.”

“Yeah, sure has been.”

It hadn’t really occurred to Keith that there was much for this Keith to process and deal with, but sitting across from him in the flesh really drives that home. 

“Has it been hard for you to know Shiro was with me?” Keith asks. 

Other Keith considers the question. “Yes and no? It was hard when he wasn’t talking to me about it. It was weird to hear about it and grapple with what it meant for me and Shiro. But, I mean, hear me out. Who better for my best friend than me from another reality, you know? Who can I trust better?”

Keith feels a zing of pride at that, weirdly. He laughs. Other Keith laughs with him. 

“I know it’s not quite like that, you’re your own person and all, but. I do trust you.”

“I trust you too.”

“Even after today?”

“Especially after today,” Keith says. Who else would fumble so hard and do so much work to face the mistake?

“Amazing,” Other Keith says, shaking his head. “Anyone else would probably hate me forever.”

“I guess, quite literally, I’m not just anyone else.”

Other Keith smiles his sharp smile. “Yeah, you’re right.”

And now, after seeing it for two days now, Keith understands the sharpness. It’s humor— fast and cocky and deeply observant humor. Keith wonders if his face does the same. 

“What’s your Shiro like?” he asks, actually taking a sip of the tea neither of them had tasted yet and leaning with his bent elbow on the table. 

Keith gets more comfortable too, crossing his arms before him and blowing at his tea. “He’s similar. More even-tempered than ours, though. Hides his sarcasm way better. He’s very calm and collected all the time.”

“So he’s suave? Good with the dudes? Shiro said he’s married to _Curtis_?”

Keith barks out a laugh. “I would never in a hundred years call him suave. But yeah, he’s married to Curtis, they’re cute together.”

“Does Curtis even have a last name?” Other Keith asks.

“Yeah, Shirogane.”

“Okay, but what was it before?”

“Thompson.”

“You made that up.”

“Yeah, I did. I don’t remember it.”

“Some friend you are.”

They laugh into their mugs. Other Keith dutifully drinks, but when Keith finally takes a sip he nearly chokes on the overwhelmingly footy flavor of it. Once Keith admits its gross, Other Keith happily dumps it down the sink. Keith loses track of time listening to Other Keith talk about his life. When Other Keith asks him things he’d ordinarily avoid from anyone else, Keith answers. Keith tells him that he’d never been with anyone in any way before Shiro and he doesn’t feel embarrassed. He tells him how he’d felt about his own Shiro. In turn, Other Keith tells him about his life with Tabor. He tells him about the conversation they had after he told Shiro he would have chosen him. Other Keith also tells him all about the other Paladins, things that wouldn’t have come up in normal conversation with them. Hearing the love in his voice about them makes Keith feel right at home. 

It’s not until Keith can hardly keep his eyes open and his leg has fallen asleep from sitting cross legged that he glances at the time. It’s almost morning.

“Oh, my husband probably thinks you killed me,” Other Keith says with a yawn. 

“Shiro is probably taking up the whole bed,” Keith says fondly. 

“Tabor does that too,” he says with a sigh. He slides off the stool and stretches his arms over his head. When he drops them back to his side, he looks at Keith with a soft expression. “Thanks for talking to me. I’ve been dying to and just didn’t know what to say…”

Keith smiles at him. “I know what you mean.”

“Figures,” he laughs.

They leave the kitchen together, the lights dimming to black behind them. They’re quiet in the hallway, but Keith feels as though he can sense that the Other Keith is deep in thought. When they get to the Red Lion rooms, Other Keith slows to a stop but doesn’t enter. 

“This is going to sound weird,” he says, uncertain.

“Any weirder than anything else?” Keith asks.

He nods. “I think I’ve seen you before.”

“In the mirror?” Keith teases even though the uncanny feeling he thought he’d adjusted to has come back full-force. Seen him before how? Keith’s mind is whirring.

“No. I don’t know, it was the day of my wedding. I saw myself for just a second. Just like an impression, like I’d stared at a light for too long.”

Keith blinks at him. He remembers Shiro’s wedding, standing drunkenly in his room at the garrison, blinking away an image of himself…

“Crazy, huh? I was probably dehydrated or something, I don’t know,” he says, waving it off in a faux casual way.

“I think I saw you once too,” Keith says. 

Other Keith’s eyes bore into him. 

“Is that even possible?” Keith asks.

“Sounds like a question for Pidge,” Other Keith answers. “Or you were dehydrated too.”

“Drunk, actually.” He says it like a joke, but now he’s wondering if there really is something more to it. “I should sleep.”

“Yeah, yeah, me too. Good night.”

They exchange warm, identical smiles and Keith heads back to his own room. Inside, Shiro is asleep and stretched across the entire bed. He moves easily when Keith nudges him. 

“Mm, where were you?” he murmurs against Keith’s neck, not at all awake.

“Talking to Keith.”

“Mmm, sure,” he slurs, his subconscious not even believing that. Keith can hardly believe it either.

“Go back to sleep,” Keith whispers, wrapping his hand around Shiro’s wrist and pulling his arm close around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk about you but I stan a Keith+Keith Friendship.
> 
> This fic was going to be two chapters and now it's gonna probs get to like ...... 90k. :C WHoops


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting two in a row again! This one is the main plot stuff, the next one is some Shiro/Curtis stuff a la the Kabor chp. soooo feel free to skip that one. :X
> 
> This one features a lot of lovey dovey shit which makes me very happy.

_Another Reality_

Shiro heads to breakfast alone. Keith had woken up with him but never made it out of bed before falling back into a deep sleep. Shiro supposes the vague dream about Keith coming in late saying he was up talking to Keith may actually be a memory.

The newlyweds are nowhere to be found. Hunk and Pidge putter around the kitchen, Tabor sits at the counter with his head propped up by one fist and a report open in the air in front of him.

“Morning,” Shiro says, drawing their attention.

“Coffee’s on, boss,” Pidge says. She says the word “boss” like “bro,” affectionate and teasing.

“Omelettes?” Hunk suggests, turning back to the fridge’s contents. “I think these are eggs…”

Tabor checks over his shoulder and confirms that they are before addressing Shiro with a sort of knowing smirk. “Keith sleeping in?” he asks.

“Yeah, yours too?”

He nods. “He said they had a great talk.”

“Really?” Shiro asks, suspicious. “I barely woke up when Keith came back, I didn’t get any details.”

Tabor nods.

“He felt really bad after the… parent thing,” Pidge says, coming to lean heavily against the counter next to Tabor. “It’s good they’re good, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Shiro and Tabor both say.

It’s very good. Shiro was going to corner this reality’s Keith to give him a piece of his mind later, but maybe there’s no need to.

“What would you do if they hated each other?” she asks, looking at him too closely.

Shiro backs away and swivels toward the coffee maker, a cheap old Mr. Coffee Hunk had found in an Earth themed store a few years back. Ole Reliable, Hunk calls it. Shiro takes his time pouring some into a mug and fussing with the sugar.

To answer Pidge’s question, he’s not sure. He couldn’t say he’d dump someone his best friend disliked just because he didn’t like them. He couldn’t say he’d cut his best friend out of his life for not liking his boyfriend. He couldn’t say how successfully he’d have just dealt with their hatred of each other while still having relationships with both.

“What would you do if I didn’t like Veronica?” Hunk asks Pidge, making her screech indignantly.

“What _about_ Veronica?” she hisses.

Shiro sits across from Tabor while the other two go back and forth about it, Tabor ignoring them with practiced ease.

Tabor has never showed any sign of caring much about the inner workings of the love lives around him. The Pidge and Veronica gossip has never once seemed to interest him, for example, but Shiro is shamelessly invested in the dance. It’s probably a more evolved way of living.

“What do you think?” Shiro asks him.

“About what? Pidge and Veronica?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

Shiro laughs. “No. My Keith.”

He looks surprised. “He’s very handsome, I have one of my own,” he teases.

Shiro’s cheeks heat up. “I mean… the whole situation?”

“I’m happy for you both.” Straight-forward, to the point, no mincing words. At least it’s a positive statement. “I’ve told my husband the same.”

Sometimes, the “my husband” thing irritates the hell out of Shiro. Like Tabor is staking a claim as if it isn’t totally clear. This time, it makes him smile.

“Thanks,” Shiro says.

Keith once explained to Shiro that the Galran language has untranslatable titles for people. The closest English can get sometimes is just the technical definition. Husband. Wife. Brother. Sister. Friend. To the Galran who was raised speaking Galran, calling their husband “husband” in casual conversation could never feel close enough. The real word, the real concept, is a layer buried deep within that translatable word. Shiro, irritation cleared away, knows that’s why Tabor uses the phrase as often as he does. Knowing that makes him feel… deeply happy for them, actually.

He wants that too.

He thinks he may have it.

“What do you call Keith when you’re speaking Galran?” Shiro asks after a calm few seconds. Pidge and Hunk have called a truce, working side by side as they chop and whisk and season. Shiro figures their Galran titles for each other would burrow deeply under “sibling.”

Tabor smiles. He says something, low and musical and sweet. Nothing Shiro has ever heard in his admittedly limited exposure to the language. “Essentially, my husband,” Tabor translates, tilting his hand back and forth to express the approximation. “Speaking of…”

The door whooshes open behind Shiro and he turns to look.

“I thought I missed breakfast,” Keith mumbles, rubbing a hand back and forth over the shorn short hair at the back of his head.

“Slow morning here, champ,” Hunk informs him.

“Hm,” he acknowledges. He moves to stand next to Shiro and bumps him with his hip. “I like your boyfriend,” he says, teasing but genuine.

“Does that make you an egoist?” Tabor asks, smirking.

Keith rolls his eyes dramatically. “If you meant egoist and not _egotist_ , then I guess so.”

“I said what I meant.”

“Clever man.” Keith practically floats away and to Tabor’s side. “Morning, honey.”

Shiro fakes a gag when Keith wraps his arms around Tabor’s neck and kisses him sweetly. The door slides open again and Shiro turns and sees exactly who he hoped for.

**

Keith had been promising Shiro he was getting out of bed for real, but now he’s dreaming. He’s back in the sad Garrison dorm on Shiro’s wedding night but he’s not sure which Shiro. He’s standing in the middle of the room, the taste of champaign cloyingly sweet in his mouth but his head clear, and the room feels crowded despite being empty. Keith sees himself in every surface - the sheen of the window, the bathroom mirror through the half-open bathroom door, distorted across the curve of a glass of water, in the water itself. Just him. His face glinting back at him from every angle. And then the murmuring starts.

Through the din of low, unintelligible voices— “Keith,” his own voice says, clear as day. “I can see you too.”

With a start, Keith sits straight up in bed, heart hammering. Shiro has long since gone to breakfast. Re-oriented and breathing evened out, Keith flops back against the pillows. He yawns and rubs his hand over his lightly stubbled jaw.

Reflecting on his conversation with Other Keith helps him explain the dream away. Mostly. He still isn’t sure what to make of Other Keith saying he saw him once before. Keith closes his eyes and tries to remember Shiro’s wedding night. He finds that the heartbreak doesn’t sting as bad anymore. He finds that calling it heartbreak in the first place isn’t hard at all when it would have been impossible then. He remembers feeling a little tipsy, but not drunk. He remembers staring helplessly around his meaningless living space and feeling hollow. And he remembers the reflection. It was there and gone too fast for Keith to really focus on it. A trick of the light.

If Keith squeezes his eyes tighter, if he thinks hard enough, he can remember seeing the impression (that’s what Other Keith had called it too…) next to his own actual reflection. But that can’t be right.

But why, in all the things Keith has ever seen in his life, is this the thing he can’t believe? He’s laying in bed at the Castle of Lions in a completely different reality, but this is the thing that bends his mind.

The only word he can think of, like a whisper, is “convergence.”

He forces himself to roll out of bed. He doesn’t want to waste his time, not when Shiro is somewhere on the other side of the door.

When he gets to the kitchen, Shiro turns and levels him with a grin. Keith kisses him in front of everyone.

Later, Keith picks his way up a rocky path with Shiro right behind him. He can feel his hands even though they’re just hovering protectively over his back in case he loses his footing. Ordinarily, Keith would scoff at the implication of his own helplessness. He’s been scrabbling over rocks and loose sand and scrubby sage bushes his whole life. But with him, it’s affection and Keith recognizes that. It’s the hand on his lower back, it’s the refilling of Keith’s drink, it’s Shiro asking Keith how his missions are going. It’s love.

When they reach the crest of the hill, Keith turns and Shiro’s hands fall on his hips. A light, attractive sweat clings to Shiro’s face. Keith tugs him closer and laughs against his cheek.

“What?” Shiro asks, laughing too. “What’s so funny?”

“Just happy.”

“Uh huh,” he says, untrusting. He pulls back just enough to run a hand through his hair, only a little self-conscious. “Something on my face?”

“No,” Keith says, swirling out of the circle of his arms and snatching one of his hands as he goes. “This way.”

A fallen, gnarled tree is just where he was hoping it’d be. Keith tugs Shiro to it and sits. Shiro sits beside him, thigh to thigh and hip to hip. Shiro’s arm goes around him.

In his own reality, Keith avoids New Altea as much as he can. It feels like a place caught between real and imaginary. It’s not entirely unavoidable. They meet every year for a huge festival and have a special dinner with just the Paladins and Coran. Keith leaves as soon as he can. But, he’d found this lookout spot the first time he stepped foot here. Before the summits and celebrations, before the dinners. They’d scouted the new planet for safety reasons, to make sure the place wasn’t a minefield of traps or a weird mirage or a strange and insubstantial tear in the universe. Whatever. It hadn’t been. Coran had fallen to his knees and wept, Romelle had sunk to the ground next to him to hold him and cry too. Keith had excused himself to climb away from it, overwhelmed and exhausted and aching.

He’d found this and he hadn’t sunk to the ground and wept, but he had collapsed and shut down entirely. With fingers biting into bark too old to feasibly exist on this brand new planet, he thought of how nothing here made sense and none of it was probable. He remembers hearing footsteps approaching and hoping for them to be Shiro, but that hadn’t been probable either. It had been Pidge, ready to sit close beside him in comforting silence.

In the present, he feels Shiro looking at the side of his face and turns his head to look. “You were right, the view is great,” Shiro says, smirking.

“I’m always right,” he says, pressing his nose to Shiro’s.

Lower hills spread out before them, like wrinkles in velvet. The sky is a soft blue marbled with wispy clouds. The view really is good. It’s centering and calm. The palace rises in the distance, shining severely where the sun hits it. Keith is trying to get used to feeling of otherness. Keith is trying to balance feeling like he’s in a familiar place with the feeling that he’s not. He is both happy and confused.

“Have you given much thought about what you want to do with the next few days?” Shiro asks.

“Let’s stay in your reality. Do you have a place somewhere?”

Shiro huffs a laugh. “Other than the Atlas and my ship, no. Is that sad?”

“I’m probably not the best judge, I just base hop.”

“Maybe it is sad,” Shiro muses.

“I’d like to see the Atlas.” Keith elbows him.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Anywhere else?”

Keith had no interest in locations here. Not really. He thinks comparing and contrasting will drive him crazy, all he wants is to be with Shiro. He just wants to hold his hand and talk to him and kiss him and fall into beds with him. He wants to watch him take his vitamins and stretch out his sore shoulders and answer messages. The little things. In the spirit of being truthful, Keith leans against him and says, “I just want to be with you.”

Shiro shifts his shoulder so Keith is more against his chest. His lips ghost over Keith’s hairline. Keith closes his eyes and breathes in the smell of him.

“Do you want to see Daibazaal?” Shiro asks after awhile.

“Sure.”

“Keith and Tabor want to host us, I told them I’d ask.”

“That’d be great.”

“Okay, you’re serious? You two are both seriously getting along? Be honest with me, now or never.”

Keith laughs, sitting back up to look Shiro in the eye. “Yes, I’m serious. He’s great.”

Shiro narrows his eyes suspiciously. “What did you two talk about?”

“Everything, I don’t know. A lot. I like him. Isn’t that a good thing? Aren’t you relieved?”

“Yes, I am. You’re always surprising me.” His voice pitched low and intimate, his face close. Keith brings his hand up to Shiro’s cheek to press him closer.

“Do you ever wish you could talk to yourself from the outside? Like really be there for yourself in a physical way or talk to the younger version of yourself and give them some clues about how it’s going to turn out?” Keith asks.

“Sure.”

“It felt like that want was actually coming true. It was just like… having an outside perspective. I thought I wouldn’t like him, but I ended up just understanding him. That different version of myself.”

He tries to find a way to really explain it, but he can’t. It’s the feeling of knowing someone, bone-deep. The ugly and beautiful of someone all at once. He can’t explain why the older Keith made him defensive and rough and this one didn’t. Maybe it’s just pure chemistry. The older Keith was him with a couple decades on him. He was the version of Keith who would exist had his ego been stoked in the wrong way. Older Keith wasn’t a bad person, he was cocky and embarrassing. But this other Keith was him with a different set of circumstances sculpting him. Recognizable but foreign.

Shiro looks thoughtful at his answer. His arm tightens around him, his free hand coming up to rest of Keith’s knee. He kisses Keith’s temple and just breathes.

“How did it feel to meet the older version of yourself?” Keith asks. “Was it like that?”

Shiro huffs a laugh. “I feel like it was the older version of you who had all the clues. But it was comforting to know that there are a lot of paths out there. I remember feeling relieved that he also hadn’t married his Keith and was doing fine. I wonder what it would be like to meet the Shiro from your reality…”

“It’ll be like two golden retriever puppies,” Keith teases. He dips forward to kiss the laugh right off of Shiro’s lips.

After a stretch of comfortable silence, Keith clears his throat. “Are Allura and Lance still around or did they go on their honeymoon?”

“They’re around,” Shiro says. “We’ll see them before we leave.”

Keith nods. He wants to catch Allura on her own. He wants to ask her about the convergence, he wants to know what she saw in the black field she walked into. He wants to know if timelines and realities can overlap, if the fabric of space gets thin, if it was possible for just his reality and this reality to brush against each other and if it’s possible, for what reason? Why would he see Other Keith and why would Other Keith see him?

As much as he desperately wants to discredit fate and say that the universe is random and chaotic, he’s seen enough to know better. But if things aren’t random and chaotic, shouldn’t they have meaning? If so, what is the damn meaning?

He leans into Shiro and kisses him to quiet his mind. Shiro kisses back. Keith brings his hands up to hold Shiro’s face and breathes and melts forward against him.

If everything Keith had lived through was simply to bring him to this Shiro, that would be meaning enough.

**

The night before Keith is set to leave, Shiro nestles in against his neck and squeezes him to his chest so hard Keith grunts.

The room Shiro usually stays in is close to the stairs with a view of the hangar through the window. It’s almost like Keith always gave Shiro the chance to run if he wanted to. But the room they’re staying in now is one reserved for visiting couples — usually the dignitaries and ambassadors that drive Keith nuts, but sometimes Lance and Allura. This room is situated away from the main thoroughfare of the upstairs living area for privacy. The windows look out on Daibazaal’s severe landscape of sharp rock formations and smooth, wind-shaped cliff faces. Shiro feels swaddled by it. Big bed, deep bath in the en suite, plush quiet, privacy.

And it’s a different sort of privacy from their two days on the Atlas. Shiro smiles into Keith’s hair thinking about the image of Keith in Shiro’s quarters. Curled in the fleece he’d given Shiro, smiling up at the pictures of them Shiro has displayed on the walls. Shiro’s quarters and hermetically sealed—air-tight, soundproof, alarmed. Private, in a way. Outside of his door, they were in full view. Everyone on-board had their eyes on them. Shiro loved it. Keith didn’t seem to mind either. The attention was liberating and validating.

Shiro runs his fingers up the bare column of Keith’s spine and feels him shiver against him. It’s a moment of softness from someone Shiro now knows could break his neck without breaking a sweat. Shiro has sparred this reality’s Keith more times than he could ever count and had incorrectly assumed he knew what he was getting into when he challenged his Keith to spar.

“Remember that time you kicked my ass?” Shiro murmurs. Keith snorts. “That was so hot.”

Keith props himself up a little to shoot him a pretend disapproving look.

“You’re just so competent,” Shiro continues, lifting a hand to smooth his palm over Keith’s cheek.

Keith smiles and lays back against the pillow, pulling Shiro against him. “How’s your shoulder?” he asks, carding his fingers through Shiro’s hair back and forth.

“Good as new, how’s your knee?”

“Bruised. That was a good kick.”

Shiro grins. “Did you have fun today?”

“I did, yeah,” Keith says warmly.

Tabor and Keith had shown them around the capital. They’d seen monuments and museums and eaten at interesting places and sat close together in a booth at a weird bar. The entire day was a double date. The Keiths had claimed to be twins whenever anyone would look at the two of them for too long. Shiro loves the feeling of Keith in his world, of being in Keith’s orbit.

“Don’t leave,” Shiro murmurs.

Keith’s fingers keep parting Shiro’s hair and smoothing the strands down over and over again, slow and steady. Shiro can’t fathom not spending this much time with him when he goes. The whole, glorious week has ruined him.

“Mmm, I have to,” Keith says after some thought. “I’m touring the new bases when I get back.”

“Then I’ll go with you,” Shiro says, feeling wildly hopeful. He starts running through logistics and details in his head, looking for any way that would be possible.

“Pidge said you guys had to be on Earth in two days,” Keith says in a neutral, guarded voice.

The logistics and details all point to impossibility. Shiro feels like he’s shrinking.

“Let’s just run away,” Keith says but Shiro knows he doesn’t exactly mean it. Not now. Shiro knows how important his mission is to him.

“Someday,” Shiro says. He means it. He doesn’t know how he’ll make that a reality, but he’ll figure it out.

“Don’t be sad.” Keith pulls back from Shiro enough to look down at him. Shiro doesn’t bother hiding his expression. “It sucks, I know,” Keith says, using a thumb to swipe over a downturned corner of Shiro’s lips.

“A whole week together,” Shiro muses. Keith’s thumb continues stroking his face and Shiro never wants to leave this moment. “Not enough.”

Keith shakes his head. “I’m just a message away. All the time, any time.”

“I know.”

“Let’s plan the next trip?” Keith suggests. He lightly scratches Shiro’s scalp and hooks his leg around Shiro’s.

“I want to see your reality,” Shiro says almost immediately. “Meet your friends.”

Keith grins. “I’d like that.”

“I want to meet your Shiro.”

“You’re my Shiro,” Keith corrects sweetly. Shiro’s heart soars. “You two are going to love each other.”

“Hopefully,” Shiro agrees. Part of him wonders if the Keiths getting along so well has somehow flipped expectations entirely but he’d like to be friends with the other Shiro. “I want a whole week too, you know.”

Keith murmurs in thought, pulling his calendar up. When Shiro shows no sign of moving due to supreme comfort, Keith reaches over and taps at his watch until his calendar pops up too. Shiro smiles at the familiarity and closes his eyes.

Some time later, Keith huffs. “We both have a week a year from now.”

“A year?” Shiro asks, head popping up to look.

“Yeah,” he sighs.

“Not gonna happen. What about like half a week?”

“We’re both stacked for awhile,” he says, disappointed.

“A long weekend?”

“Next month.”

“Okay, I’ll take it.”

But Keith is silent. Shiro props himself up on one arm to look at him. “What’s wrong?”

“I want a week too, I guess.”

“I’ll cancel my plans then.” Shiro reaches for his own calendar and opens the days surrounding the long weekend just to double check it’s nothing too important. He starts typing in notes to reschedule as Keith watches.

Keith laughs sadly. “I can’t cancel mine.”

Shiro doesn’t care. “What if I tag along?”

“You’d be so bored. It’s just meetings and training new recruits. I’ll be on Earth for most of next month. I’m speaking at the Garrison. It’s stupid.”

Shiro shakes his head. “Not everything has to be a vacation.”

The implication Shiro leaves unsaid is that he hopes someday their time together will be commonplace and constant. Keith seems to catch it. He wraps his hand around Shiro’s wrist and smiles.

“You’re sure you don’t mind? I might have to ditch you for a day.” He points to a base tour that has “CLASSIFIED” written in the location field.

“If you can sit through a wedding ceremony alone, I can entertain myself for a day.”

Keith looks glaringly hopeful. “You’re sure?”

Shiro nods. “But if me being around is going to mess things up for you, we can figure something else out…”

Keith shakes his head. “It’ll be fine, it’ll be great.” He swipes his calendar out of the air in front of him and shifts closer to Shiro to kiss him. “A month apart is like… nothing,” he murmurs. Shiro notes that Keith flaps his hand above them, dismissing Shiro’s calendar too.

Shiro wraps his hand around the back of Keith’s leg and rolls onto his back. Keith settles on top of him with natural ease.

“Still too long,” Shiro says.

Keith kisses Shiro deeply, tongue sliding against his, as legs fall open around his hips, but Shiro wants something different. They wrestle playfully, legs pressing against each other and knees knocking and holding hands while trying to overpower each other. Keith succeeds in flipping them over so Shiro is laying on top of him, but Shiro immediately reverses the effort and ends up with Keith in between his legs.

“This,” Shiro says, tightening his thighs around Keith’s hips. “I want this.”

For the first time in ages, Keith looks bashful and confused. “Oh,” he breathes.

“A new experience for us.”

“This week has had a lot of those,” Keith says, seeming to find a reserve of boldness somewhere. Hopefully in the memory of Shiro sinking to his knees in front of him in the shower the night after the wedding. But maybe he’s thinking of the smaller things too. Shiro and him going to bed side by side while wearing pajamas, shaving next to each other in the bathroom, getting their socks mixed up.

Shiro nods. “I want our life to be full of new experiences.” Lofty? Sure. Honest? Yes.

Our life. Just a singular road walked together. That’s what Shiro wants. Which may be insane. From the first kiss to now, it’s been less than a year. From first sight to now, just under two years and Shiro definitely counts the first year even if he shouldn’t. He counts every second of anticipation and every time his gut told him this person would be important to him.

“I want that too,” Keith whispers

“We want a lot of the same things,” Shiro says, seductive. “Is this one of those things?” He shifts his hips up and toward Keith’s. He can’t get anymore obvious without just saying it.

Keith swallows and nods, his cheeks going pink. “You’re getting another of my firsts, Takashi,” he says, smiling shyly.

Shiro cherishes the fact, but he doesn’t say so. He kisses him instead. Their hands, still tangled together, separate so Shiro can lightly grip Keith’s waist and Keith’s can flounder a little bit on Shiro’s chest and shoulders while he figures out what he needs to do with them.

“Take your time,” Shiro says, lightly teasing though deliberate. It feels good to be laying underneath him, bare skin pressed to bare skin. He could do this for hours.

“Lube,” Keith demands, the word punching a laugh from Shiro. Keith laughs too. “Let’s do it, c’mon. I can’t reach.” He gently slaps the side of Shiro’s ass and smirks.

Shiro stretches his arm down toward the overnight bag on the floor, tugs it open, and roots around inside for the bottle while Keith sucks Shiro’s neck with a force meant to leave a mark.

“He’s feeling brave now,” Shiro says in a fake aside. “Leaving hickeys and slapping my ass.”

“He is,” Keith agrees. He takes the lube from Shiro and grins. “Even though his boyfriend is more experienced and knows what he likes already. Talk me through this?”

“Sure,” Shiro says, taking the bottle back and flicking it open.

“Did I kill the romance?” Keith asks, holding his hand out.

“Not at all.” Shiro punctuates the sentiment with a kiss and simultaneously squeezes lube into Keith’s waiting hand. “Do what feels right and I’ll let you know how you’re doing.”

What starts as cautious and exploratory turns heated and _good_ when Keith gets his first moan out of Shiro with just his fingers. Emboldened, Keith hikes Shiro’s leg up around his hip with his free hand and angles in deeper. Shiro curses in a rush of breath, Keith laughs against his jaw.

“How am I doing?” he asks.

“Where’d you learn your moves?” Shiro teases instead of answering.

“You,” Keith says simply, smiling softly with twinkly eyes.

Shiro loves him. He stretches up to kiss him and pulls him in with his arm hooked around his neck.

And then it’s sweet.

Shiro gives him the go-ahead, eager to get things started. Keith presses in slowly, eyes squeezed shut and panting at the new sensation of it. Shiro keeps one hand on his waist and the other on his ass, not pushing or pulling just feeling him under his palms as his body moves. Shiro’s eyes want to roll back at the sensation but he wants to watch every complex emotion that flickers across Keith’s face. His breath hitches, his heart pounds, his skin flushes. Keith bites his lip, eyebrows crinkling in concentration. And finally, Keith’s hips snap to Shiro’s and his head drops onto Shiro’s collarbone. He lets out a long, whiny breath that ends on a rough groan.

“That good?” Shiro asks, breath hot in Keith’s ear.

“That good,” he slurs. “You good?”

“So good,” Shiro says, hands abandoning Keith’s sweat-slick body to cradle his beautiful face in his hands.

“What next?” Keith asks, sounding love-drunk and wrecked just from this.

“Fuck me,” Shiro says against his lips before pulling him into a crushing kiss.

Shiro wants Keith to take what he needs from him. He wants Keith to give him everything.

**

Keith is… absolutely flooded with feeling. The sex is over but Keith can’t stop holding Shiro and kissing him and touching his skin. Shiro is smiling into it. Shiro’s cool metal hand is pressed to the back of Keith’s neck and it’s a balm on his flushed skin. There are so many words just on the tip of his tongue but he swallows them down.

He loves him.

He wants to spend the rest of his life wrapped up with him.

“Mmph,” Shiro mumbles against his lips, pulling his head away. His lips are so swollen and Keith wants them back but he looks into his eyes to read them instead. “Tired,” Shiro explains, working his jaw back and forth, unable to hide his boyish grin.

Keith presses a kiss to Shiro’s brow instead then. Sweet, simple, less charged. He strokes Shiro’s cheekbone and smells his hair and tries to memorize everything about this.

When he falls asleep, it’s total and deep. Black rest until a dream flickers into view. The Paladins standing in a line facing a mirror. No, standing in line in a hall of mirrors, versions of themselves stretching into the far, far reaches. Their own eyes shining over their shoulders. The more Keith looks, the more he can spot differences. The Keith right behind him moves his hand and puts it on his shoulder and the mirror image doesn’t change. Just one hand on one shoulder. Keith turns around to look at all of them. There’s a Keith without a scar, a Keith with a shorn head, a Keith gray at the temples, a Keith with purple skin, a Keith with golden eyes and fangs.

The Keith right behind him is the one he knows like a brother. The one behind that one is the one he could have grown up to be but won’t.

“Keith?” an echoing voice asks. When he turns in its direction, he sees three of thousands of Shiros looking right at him, all with different expressions. A formless sound blares from above but Keith’s the only one who flinches, the only one who tears his eyes away—

“Keith?” Shiro says, voice right in his ear. The formless sound congeals into a repeated, pulsing tone. An alarm clock. Keith forces his eyes open. “Hey,” Shiro says in his soft early morning voice.

Looking at Shiro, the sharp edges of the dream smooth away and Keith finds that the memory of it is as insubstantial as smoke. He takes his first waking breath and feels every point of his body as it connects with Shiro’s.

“We should shower, baby,” Shiro says. Keith loves being called baby.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” Keith says. He hadn’t wanted to waste a second.

“I fell asleep too.” Shiro carefully disentangles from Keith, rubbing his own shoulder and working it out in little rotations. He yawns. Keith reluctantly pulls himself up to sit too. “How’d you sleep?”

“Very well,” he admits.

Shiro smiles and ducks forward to kiss just below his eye. “Me too.”

In the shower, Keith wraps his hand around Shiro and sucks water off his neck. The slide of their skin together and the sound of Shiro’s breaths over the water make Keith feel like more than his own body. Shiro pushes his back against the cool tile and hitches Keith’s legs up around his hips. The power in his body feels like the power in Keith’s.

After, they drag their feet leaving. Keith has a pretty strict deadline for getting back to his own reality and they’re certainly pushing it. They linger over breakfast with Other Keith and Tabor until it’s nearly time for lunch. They keep thinking of more things to talk about. More questions to ask. More stories to share.

Keith soaks up how much this Keith loves Shiro because it makes him feel better about his friendship with the Shiro back home. It helps him understand a piece of it from the outside. Spending time with this Tabor makes him appreciate his own even more — the tinges of humor, the facade of seriousness, the underlying sorrow. He’ll be seeing his own Tabor in a few days, he wonders how he should approach him.

But finally, it’s time to go. Shiro has to shuttle him back to their In Between reality so Keith can get his ship and get home.

“Hey, don’t be a stranger,” Other Keith says, pulling Keith into a brotherly hug outside of Shiro’s ship. “Take care of our dude.”

Keith is surprised to have a heavy heart about leaving. He puts his feet up against the dash in the cockpit next to Shiro and watches him pilot, aching and sad and happy all at once. Keith watches Shiro’s gleaming right hand on the throttle and feels the force of their movement through space mingling with the feelings in his core.

“I’m going to miss you,” Keith says.

Shiro looks over at him with a sad smile. “I’m going to miss you too.”

Mostly, he lets Shiro focus. He can’t fly on autopilot to the rift from here. An asteroid belt lies between Daibazaal and the crackled field of rifts. Keith knows that, it’s the same where he’s from. He watches through the windshield and glances at the readings.

“I like how you fly,” Keith says thoughtfully after some time.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Smooth, confident, fast.”

“I’ve still got it,” he says, cocky but laughing after a second. “How does Shiro fly?”

“Hm, it’s been awhile for him, I think. But, mostly the same. He can be a daredevil.”

“So can I.”

“I’ll bet.” Keith grins and rests back against the headrest. He’s never asked the Shiro back home if he ever misses flying like this. “Maybe when you meet you can get him back in a plane.”

“I’ll make it a goal.”

“Please do.” Keith’s voice comes out softer than he meant it to. Shiro lets him have it without comment.

Back at Keith’s ship, it’s the same old scene. Passionate, desperate kisses and regretful goodbyes and see you soons. Keith hugs him tightly, standing on the tips of his toes. They promise to message and Keith is already eager to talk to him again.

Shiro holds his face in his hands and kisses him. “I’ll be dreaming of you,” he says in a voice that feels sappier than anything Shiro has ever said.

“Sweet dreams, then,” Keith returns in a whisper.

It hurts to fly away. He gets one last snapshot glance of Shiro leaning handsomely against the portal door and then he’s in the dark vastness of space, careening to the field of rifts.

Keith thinks long and hard about the conversation he’d had with Allura before leaving New Altea. It was brief and baffling and he’d shelved thinking about it for the trip home. It’s a good distraction from the pain of leaving.

He’d clumsily asked her to talk and clumsily asked her what the convergence point felt like and if it looked like anything, if she saw anything in the black… She’d described something like a big black room full of mirrors. Being surrounded by herself in every direction.

“Did you see my Allura? Would you know if you had?” Keith had asked.

She’d tilted her head and thought. “It’s possible. I haven’t thought about it in some time. It’s like a dream now.”

“Do you think it’s possible for smaller moments of convergence?”

Her eyebrows had raised and furrowed in a breath’s space. “Have you seen something?” she asked, voice hushed.

Keith had hesitated. Had he? He’d thought of the dream (and now he’s thinking of the dream from that morning, coming back to him in bits and pieces). He’d nodded.

Allura had promised she’d talk to Coran and see what she could sleuth out and remember, but not until after the honeymoon. By the next time Keith sees her, she may have an answer.

Imagine there even being an answer.

Before Keith knows it, the bright field of rifts lays stretched out before him. He sets his coordinates and braces for the jolt of simultaneous re-entry and exit. The time, space and moment of change.

On the other side, he turns on the autopilot function and gets up to stretch his legs. He opens the chat program and messages Shiro.

_K: Safe and sad and missing you. Hope you’re just as safe and sad and missing me.  
S: Good to hear and happy to report that I am._

He grabs a pouch of water and sits at the galley table. He scrolls through the pictures from the wedding and attaches them to an email and starts writing about how it went. This is the message he’ll send too Hunk and Pidge. He ends it by saying Shiro will be visiting in a month and he’d like them to meet him. He writes Lance to say the wedding was perfect and he has pictures but wants to know if Lance even wants to see them. He wants to ask Lance how he should talk to Coran about it too. He attaches a picture of him and his counterpart just so he’s not empty handed.

He drums his fingers on the table and frets about how to ask Shiro and Curtis if they’d like to meet his Shiro. Ultimately, he just comes right out and does it.

_Hey guys!_

_Had a great time. It was really weird meeting myself, but he’s pretty cool. :) The wedding was beautiful and painful and pretty much exactly how you probably imagined. I’ve attached a bunch of pictures but I have more if you want. I included a pic of me and my Shiro, sorry if that’s weird. Speaking of my Shiro, he wants to come visit this reality too. Would you guys be okay meeting him? I’ll be on Earth a lot next month and he’ll be with me for a week. We should get together. If not, I get it. Either way, see you both soon. Hope everything is going well re: baby stuff. Can’t wait for any updates._

_\- Keith_

Satisfied, he sends it. In the meantime, his Shiro has sent him a paragraph of text confessing that he stole Keith’s pajama pants from his bag but left him his zipped sweater. Keith grins at it and laughs.

_K: If I look and there’s no sweater, you’re in big trouble. Those are my favorite PJs._  
_S: I may steal from you, but I’d never lie. I did it for noble reasons._  
_K: And what reasons are those?_  
_S: They’re super soft. Besides, I know you like the sweater._

Keith checks the bag and finds the sweater folded right on top. He tugs it out with a triumphant “ha!” and wraps himself up in it.

_K: You’re lucky, Shirogane. You’re also not getting this sweater back._  
_S: And you aren’t getting the PJs back. Are you wearing it?_  
_K: I am. :) Are you in my pajamas in the middle of the afternoon?_  
_S: No, but I wish I was. Love the mental image of you in my clothes._

They flirt the rest of Keith’s flight and Keith feels like the teenager he never got to be as he’s curled up in a chair smiling at his tablet. When the navigation system alerts him that he’s close to the base and autopilot will be disabled. He ambles back to the cockpit as the smooth computer voice counts down. He sees the shimmer of the protective shell taking up the entire span of the windshield. He kills his engines and waits for them to drop the shields and give him the go-ahead.

He thinks back to what Shiro said about not having a place to call home. This base is the closest to what he could call home and he’d never call it that. The red lion, the old castle of lions, the shack in the desert, the Garrison… Keith’s not sure which one comes to mind when asked about home. It’s certainly not his ship. It’s certainly not the Blades of Marmora craft he flies with the others.

He closes his eyes and rests his head back, trying to picture what kind of place he would ever settle into. The furnishings are foggy, but Shiro’s presence is undeniable in that sweep of fantasy space.

“Is that my lovesick son returned from the rift?” the base’s comm line asks in his mother’s smirking voice. His permission to dock notification flashes across the display.

She and Kolivan are both waiting for him in the bay, arms crossed in identically severe ways. Kolivan’s face is as unreadable as ever but Krolia’s all smiles. He drags his feet as he disembarks, not wanting the illusion of rest shattered already but—

“Hope you’re ready to get back to work,” Kolivan says.

Krolia shushes Kolivan and moves forward to pull Keith into a bone crushing hug. “A week’s too long,” she says.

Keith feels warm. The feeling of this is a home too, he realizes, feeling torn between what he has and loves and what he desperately wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AGAIN, next chapter is Shiro/Curtis. Ye been warned!!!


	11. A Shiro/Curtis Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SHIRO and CURTIS chapter!!! 
> 
> At some point, I remembered this was a fix-it fic for my soul's benefit so I had to work on reconciling those two being together in this fic and also in general. 
> 
> WARNING: talk of therapy, PTSD, mental health in here. 
> 
> Takes place while Keith is off with his own Shiro for the wedding week.

_Core Reality_

Shiro used to think it would be all musty chaise lounges and a white-haired, stoic man scribbling notes. 

The only stoic white-haired man here is Shiro.

Minh “Not a Doctor” Tyson has bleached blonde hair, a thick chunk of it framing one side of her face changes colors every few weeks. Shiro has watched it fade from violent red to a dawn-like pink and from Galra purple to lavender ice cream. Now, it’s midway between fiery sun orange and unripe peach. Creamsicle, Shiro thinks.

“How was your week, Shiro?” she asks. She folds her hands against her stomach, swelling with new life, and smiles at him gently. 

That’s another thing Shiro has watched change. He’d dared to skirt along the patient-therapist boundary and get her and her wife a gift. A generous giftcard and a onesie with teddy bear-like lions of Voltron romping around on the chest, the card signed by him and Curts. He’d worried the Voltron gear would be… tacky. But she’d loved it. 

“Good,” he answers. He always says it was good, even when it wasn’t. Force of habit. She knows that, too. 

She allows him the friendly impulse with a click of her tongue and carries on. “Did you work on what we spoke about last week?”

Last week’s assignment had been to ask Curtis to point out when he was using “negative self-talk.” 

Shiro nods.

“And?” she asks.

“Curtis pointed out a lot of negative self-talk, but he said it was worse last week than it had been lately. I guess he’s noticed.”

Of course he’s noticed. Curtis’s general attention is as soft and comforting as Curtis’s touch, always. Always. Even at his worst, Shiro feels safe with Curtis. Watched after, protected.

“What do you think has made it worse this week than others?”

He’s not sure. He says as much with a blank stare and she stares back, letting him think. Thinking back on the week, Shiro remembers that he hadn’t slept well and he’d been worried about Keith being out of contact for a week and he’d been overwhelmed with all the little details springing up around surrogacy. And he’d wondered if he would ever be a good father. Curtis would be, no doubt. But Shiro?

There’s the negative self-talk again.

“I’m stressed out about the baby stuff,” he says. “And Keith is gone for a week, no way to contact him if something goes wrong and no way for him to contact us…”

She nods. “Sounds like reasonable things to worry about. Why do you think stress translates to negativity for you?”

And isn’t that just the question? Shiro tries not to lean on “post-traumatic stress disorder,” but it tends to answer a lot of the whys that pop up. 

“I feel like my inability to control my circumstances and emotions is a failure that can lead to catastrophe.” 

She huffs. “Don’t quote me at me,” she teases. 

He smiles at her. “But you’re usually right.”

“So that resonated with you?”

He nods. 

She nods back. “How did you feel when your husband pointed out that self-talk?”

Shiro thinks back to this morning, when he called himself stupid for crushing a jar in his bionic hand. Curtis grabbed a dish towel to take the shattered remains of the glass away from him and maneuvered Shiro away from the mess. 

“You are the smartest man I know,” Curtis had said. He’d opted to point out Shiro’s negativity by contradicting it. The thought warms him. He figures that’s worth mentioning.

“Every time he catches me saying something negative, he says something positive back.”

She squeezes her eyes closed in pleasure. “That’s perfect,” she says, voice high. “I like him.”

“Heh, I like him too.”

“Good! So how does it feel to have him reflect positivity back at you?”

Shiro sighs. “It’s nice.”

“Do you believe the things he says?”

“I believe that he believes them. I believe that others would agree with him. But I’m not entirely convinced.”

He’s gotten better at therapy. He’s trained himself to recognize his own neuroses and patterns. He’s diligently done all his homework and made valiant efforts to internalize what he’s learned. And he’s a lot better for it, too. 

But he has a long way to go.

**

Shiro finds Curtis in the kitchen when he gets back. He’s wearing an apron with a lame pun on it, one he’d gotten for Shiro. Shiro had laughed for ages over it. 

“There he is,” Curtis says fondly, kissing his cheek He uses his free hand to rub his palm over Shiro’s stubbled jaw. “Rugged.” He kisses his cheek again and pulls away to stir the contents of a sizzling wok. “How was therapy? Any homework?”

“Just keep calling me out with kindness, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh, my pleasure, sweet thing. Stir fry for dinner, step away from the fridge.”

Shiro let’s his hand drop before it reaches the handle. His stomach growls loud enough for Curtis to hear. 

“How are you feeling?” Curtis says after stifling a laugh.

“Hungry,” Shiro mutters, coming up behind him and resting his hands on his husband’s hips. “But okay. Thanks for all your help this week.”

“Of course,” he murmurs. 

Therapy had been Curtis’s suggestion. Ages ago. Shiro had avoided it for a long time, thinking he was fine and blaming himself for being weak when he wasn’t fine. The first time he’d suggested it had been particularly embarrassing. They’d been making out in bed and Curtis had gone to take Shiro’s shirt off. Shiro had never considered a world where he let anyone take his clothing off, not since… everything. He’d hyperventilated and rolled off the side of the bed to get away from him. 

Curtis could have left Shiro right there on the floor and never looked him in the eye again. But instead he’d stuck his head over the edge of the bed to look at Shiro. Just look. “Are you okay?” he’d asked in a soft voice so kind it made Shiro’s heart break. 

“I can’t do this,” Shiro had said through a clenched jaw.

“This in general? Or the shirt thing?”

“The shirt thing.”

“Okay.” He’d held his hand out and led Shiro back into bed. “Should we cool it on the touching?”

Shiro had nodded. Curtis had shifted away just a little but not so far that Shiro couldn’t feel the warmth coming off his body. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Shiro had shaken his head but he’d ended up letting it all spill out of him anyway. He was so embarrassed as it was, why not make it worse? He’d told Curtis that he hadn’t been touched like this since before Kerberos and that the last person who had was dead. He’d told Curtis that he associated someone touching his skin with torture and experimentation and fighting to the death. He’d told Curtis he liked him and he wanted to move past all that but he wasn’t sure if he could.

“Have you considered therapy?” He’d asked it in that same soft, kind voice from before. After years of being together, Shiro still isn’t over the way that voice makes him feel.

Curtis tells Shiro to set the table and crosses to the rice cooker. Shiro’s stomach growls again when the smell of hot rice hits him on his way past. 

Shiro asks Curtis about work over dinner. He’s proud of him for how much he’s accomplished since they’ve come back to Earth. He’s an instructor, he’s active in research and development, he’s been promoted twice. Being back here affords them the safety and security Shiro so desperately needed after everything had unfolded. They can have their careers and still make it home in time for dinner. 

Or… at least Curtis can have his career. 

Shiro swallows down the bitterness and asks Curtis another question. Curtis catches it anyway.

“You okay?” he asks, hand sliding across the table top until his fingertips hit Shiro’s forearm. 

“Yeah,” Shiro says, falsely positive in a way that is completely transparent. 

Curtis retracts his hand and goes back to eating, chewing in thoughtful silence as he looks at Shiro.

“Really,” Shiro adds. “Just frazzled from therapy, you know.”

It’s a cheap cop out and they both know it. Curtis nods, some complicated look crossing his face for a second. 

Shiro hasn’t dared to breach this conversation yet. He doesn’t know if he can. He hasn’t even let himself think about it long enough to figure out what he has to say. Another topic for another therapy session, months down the line at this rate. 

But it starts like this: _I don’t mind being an instructor._

And it meanders through a field of: _I have nightmares about space almost every night._

It touches upon: _I can still feel that machine pulsing in my blood and I would die to go back but I think I will die if I do go back._

The end doesn’t exist yet. He never gets further than that. It’s way easier to _want_ things here. He wants this comfortable home. He wants his husband (frequently and in many positions). He wants a family. He wants to feel safe. 

He feels safe here.

**

Safety is laying under the covers with a foot shoved between Curtis’ ankles. Safety is Curtis’ lips centimeters away and curved into a smile. 

They’re both north of six feet tall, neither of them particularly thin, and between the two of them and the cat they have barely any room in bed. Shiro loves it. He likes to imagine them making room to lay down with their infant between them or on one of their chests. 

Soon.

Shiro never would have thought he’d have this. 

When asked about how they got here, they both have a different version of the story. 

From Curtis’s angle, it was almost a romantic comedy. They’d known each other before Kerberos. Curtis was a year below Shiro. Curtis admired him from afar. Shiro was presumed dead by the general public until he came back in the midst of a Galran invasion with Voltron in tow. From there, though most of their lives during that time couldn’t be considered comedic at all, there was a series of awkward encounters and accidental flirtation and general embarrassments. When Curtis tells it, it’s charming and hysterical and Shiro is happy to feature in the retellings. He sounds much more gallant in Curtis’s version.

It always starts with the night before Atlas embarked from Earth for the first time. Shiro had told the crew to spend time with the people they love and had promptly hid himself away in the Garrison dorm he’d been staying in. A knock had come about an hour into a movie Shiro had already lost interest in, the sound of it uncertain as if the knocker was ready to flee. 

But it’d been Curtis asking if he wanted to get a drink. 

According to Curtis, Curtis made a bumbling fool of himself trying to get Shiro to talk. According to Shiro, Curtis had been a kind companion on an otherwise awful night.

Shiro’s memories of Curtis from the bridge are dim but Curtis has vivid memories of all the times Shiro flustered him or the times Shiro complimented him and he could barely hide a grin behind his monitors. 

The Clear Day celebration is when Curtis comes into sharp focus. Shiro ended up in an arm wrestling contest and Curtis had wandered in to watch. After winning, Shiro spent the rest of the day with Curtis. He remembers laughing and the most opaque flirting he could manage. He remembers finding it easier to ignore the hurt feelings about the others going their own way. By the end of it, Shiro had the very beginnings of an inkling of a crush. Curtis had a full-fledged one. 

When the war was won and Shiro felt torn to tatters by everything that had happened, he went to Curtis’s room and kissed him. In Curtis’s version, it was unrequited feelings becoming requited with a passionate, loving kiss. In Shiro’s version, it’s a vortex of conflicting feelings all culminating in desperately needing the best of those emotions to be made real. Kissing Curtis was the best possible action to come from the chaos. After that kiss, Curtis pulled him inside and they sat close together on his bed, silent and calm. Curtis held Shiro’s hand. 

He still can’t say for sure if he loved Curtis then. It’d taken him time to catch up to that. But ultimately, he did. He felt at home with him. Curtis had been patient and supportive. Shiro felt himself rising to Curtis’s standards in the areas he couldn’t reach before. He learned to be more open. He learned to accept care. 

In addition to all that, Curtis always gushes about how Shiro is the perfect partner. Shiro is loving and kind and responsible and caring and thoughtful. It was the reciprocal acceptance of those things he was bad at. That and he was ashamed of his own failures and flaws. Ashamed of his trauma. Ashamed of his body. 

Shiro doesn’t think he’s the perfect partner. But he’s thankful to be considered one.

Curtis reaches out and holds Shiro’s wrist under the covers, bringing Shiro back from the edge of sleep. “I love you,” Curtis murmurs. 

“Love you,” Shiro murmurs back.

“Are you happy at work?” 

Shiro frowns up at the ceiling before turning his head toward him. Their noses touch. “Why do you ask?”

“I just get a feeling,” he says. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No,” Shiro whispers. 

“Do you think we should pause on the baby stuff…?” 

“No,” Shiro says more emphatically. “Do you?”

Curtis lets out a puff of toothpaste scented breath against Shiro’s face in relief. “No. I just wanted to give you the chance…”

“Don’t need it.” He stretches his neck out to kiss Curtis’s forehead. 

“Tell me if you need something, anything.”

“I have everything I need,” he says, and he means it. He has most of the things he wants too. There’s something missing, absolutely. But he can live without it.

**

“Cadet Wilson, your attention please. Unless you’d like to stay dead last in the rankings,” Shiro warns with a teasing lilt to his voice. 

“Someone has to be last, sir,” Wilson says with a drawl. 

Shiro hides his smile by turning his back to his first year flight class. He pulls up a diagram of an engine on the screen and gestures to make the parts expand out. 

He should reprimand him. Another instructor would. But Shiro won’t. He’s the former Black Paladin, the former Admiral of the Atlas. He lets himself feel the freedom these distinctions afford him and he passes a little of that freedom along to his students. Shiro values independence in pilots. Keith, after all, was always the poster child of that.

“What is it that you are here for?” Shiro asks, swiveling back to face the whole class. They gape up at him with big round eyes set in young round faces. Shiro remembers being them. Shiro remembers Keith and Lance and Hunk being them. When his instructor asked the same question, Shiro had eagerly raised his hand to say that he was here to go further than any other human before. Iverson had nodded curtly but dismissively. Shiro then went on to go further than any other human had gone before. Shiro refuses to underestimate any of these kids, especially not the ones with bad attitudes. 

“Who, me?” the kid asks. Shiro nods. He shifts uncomfortably in his orange uniform. “Flight class is a requirement, sir.”

Shiro nods. “Beyond that, why are you here at the Galaxy Garrison?”

“Because Earth is a garbage heap and this is the best funded educational institution in the entire country. I’d like a fighting chance at a life someday,” the kid answers through grit teeth. 

Shiro nods, takes a couple measured steps to the right. “And you, cadet?” Shiro asks Cadet Murphy, sitting to the kid’s right. 

“Sir, I’d like to be a pilot.”

“And why do you want to be a pilot?” 

“I’d like to help people like you have, sir,” she says, confident. 

Shiro doesn’t tell her that’s more noble than Shiro’s motivations. He doesn’t tell her that all he’d wanted to do was fly but the helping others thing was thrust on him. He nods and asks the next student. 

After class, Wilson is slow to pack up and slow to drag his feet toward Shiro at the front of the class. “I wanted to apologize,” he mumbles, eyes shifty. Shiro wonders if Murphy told him to. “I didn’t mean to disrespect you. You’re Takashi Shirogane, I should be thanking you.”

Shiro huffs a laugh. “I am no more deserving of respect than anyone else here, young man. You don’t need to thank me. If you want to be angry about the state of Earth, you’re more than welcome to be.”

Because the kid is right. There are things still bouncing back from the chaos. The school Shiro would have gone to had he not gotten into the Garrison was flattened by Galra forces and will never be rebuilt. There are countless stories of destruction that have no happy endings. Shiro can’t begin to know the losses his students have seen in their lifetimes. And besides, he likes a bad attitude.

“Then I’d like to change my answer,” he says, meek in the same way Keith can be— shy but angry but impassioned. “I’m here because I want to help rebuild.”

Shiro smiles. “And being a pilot doesn’t have much to do with that, huh?”

“No, sir, not how I see it.”

“Fair enough.” 

Wilson looks surprised at Shiro’s easy acceptance so Shiro further explains himself: “A ship needs a lot more than pilots. So does the Garrison. So does Earth. Are you in an engineering course?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Are you doing well in that course?”

“Yes, sir.”

Shiro nods. “No more digs about you being dead last in my class, then.” Shiro claps him on the shoulder. They walk out together, Wilson waving over his shoulder when he turns the other direction.

Wilson reminds him of Keith. And Keith had benefited from acceptance. Keith benefited from being allowed to grow toward the sun that powered him. Shiro never regretted being the person who fought for him. Shiro wouldn’t regret fighting for his students either.

Shiro takes the long way to the instructor’s lounge so he can pass Curtis’s class as it gets started. He leans in the doorframe and watches Curtis move from station to station. His pool of students is significantly smaller - just older students with a focus in comms. 

Eventually, Curtis looks his way and his students swivel curiously to look too.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Shirogane?” Curtis asks, smiling. The students titter around him.

“Could I have a minute, Shirogane?” Shiro teases back. The students “oooh” and giggle as Curtis makes his way to him. 

Curtis shuts the classroom door behind him, leaving the two of them alone and away from watchful eyes out in the hallway. Shiro eyeballs the security camera blinking over their heads.

“Everything okay?” Curtis asks, gently taking Shiro’s elbow in his hand.

“Mhm,” Shiro murmurs, kissing him. “Just wanted to see you. I was thinking of making pizza for dinner.”

“Best class interruption ever,” Curtis says, smiling when Shiro moves back in to kiss him again. “Shiro,” he scolds kindly. 

“Just trying to enjoy being coworkers with my husband,” Shiro flirts, shooting him a crooked grin. “Pizza. Mushrooms, onion, that weird Altean thing Lance sent over that you like a lot?”

“Perfect.”

Shiro sends him back to class with a stiff, official nod where the students can see it and Curtis plays his part by looking just as severe. He’s gone before their concerned murmur dies down.

**

“My students are very worried about you,” Curtis informs him. He unbuttons his uniform jacket and lays it carefully over the back of a chair. 

“Oh?” Shiro asks, only half interested as his eyes sweep across Curtis’s shoulders and down his muscular arms. “Why?”

“They think we fought. I was too serious looking when I went back in, I guess. By the end of the day, they seemed to think I was the aggressor. Little do they know, you’re the jerk amongst us.”

Shiro grins at him. “You love the drama.”

Curtis huffs, neither confirming nor denying the allegation. He sits in Shiro’s lap and swings an arm around his neck. 

“Every single one of them has a crush on you, very thinly veiled,” Curtis continues. “They think I’m suuuuper lucky.”

“I’m the lucky one,” Shiro says, pressing the bridge of his nose against Curtis’s cheek. 

“Tell them that.”

“I’d be happy to.”

They sit like that for awhile, quiet. Shiro’s arms around Curtis, Curtis resting his cheek against Shiro’s. 

His husband smiles easily and laughs freely. They can talk for hours and hours without getting tired. And then there’s this. Sitting together on the couch after work. Small moments in between all the big moments. Shiro feels like he can catch his breath and focus and relax. 

The kitchen timer goes off, jolting them both from the moment.

“Pizza,” Shiro says.

“Smells good, baby,” Curtis says, turning to kiss his forehead. “I’m going to change.”

Curtis re-emerges in sweatpants and gently shoos Shiro away from salad assembling. “You know, I was meaning to ask you something. One of my students had a question about the Voltron weapons system and I told her I’d pick your brain.”

“Sure,” Shiro says against the inevitable wave of sorrow. “Pidge might be better to ask, but I can try.”

Curtis asks Shiro about the functionality of the bayards and Shiro stumbles through an answer. He hadn’t had his own bayard for much of Voltron. By the time they’re moving food to the dining room table, they’re grappling with the magic and technology boundary that always boggles everyone’s minds. 

Shiro desperately misses Voltron. The absence of the lions should feel less like grief by now, but Shiro has an emptiness in him he can’t explain. There are no words for it. 

When Shiro fails to match Curtis’s enthusiasm, Curtis stops and clears his throat. “Sorry, I know that’s all still hard for you…”

“It’s okay, I like talking about it,” Shiro says.

He really does. 

Curtis frowns at him but nods.

Shiro chases a cherry tomato across his salad plate with the bionic arm before switching hands and spearing it. Curtis watches but doesn’t comment.

“I’m sorry,” Shiro says into the silence. He feels bad for his unpredictable mood swings and he feels bad for being depressed and he feels bad for making Curtis feel bad. 

Curtis doesn’t address the apology. He usually doesn’t. He doesn’t think Shiro should apologize so much anyway. This is ordinarily when Curtis will change the subject to something light and airy. His tone will buoy them both back up. 

But this time, he doesn’t.

“I wonder if exploring the other realities might have some answers about the lions,” he says thoughtfully. “Has Keith ever mentioned anything about that to you?”

Shiro shakes his head. 

“You should ask.”

Shiro nods.

“I think you asking him about his time in other realities will show him that you’re cool with what he’s doing.” Curtis watches Shiro closely as he leans over to pour him more water from the pitcher between them. “Don’t you think so?”

“Maybe.”

Shiro had told Curtis everything after he and Keith had talked. He’d needed to process it all with someone who intimately knew him and who knew Keith. Curtis had always suspected that Keith liked Shiro and that Shiro had at some point liked Keith too, none of that was a surprise. Keith seeing an alternate reality Shiro had been mildly surprising to Curtis, but ultimately he seemed unfazed.

Shiro is still sorta processing it all. He’s glad Keith’s happy. He’s still confused by the concept.

“Is he going to be sending pictures from the wedding when he gets back?” Curtis asks. 

Shiro wants to sulk the conversation away, but he’s familiar with this tone. Curtis is going to make him engage. “We asked him to.”

“I hope he’s having a nice time.”

“Mhm.”

Curtis kicks the side of Shiro’s foot under the table. “Talk to me,” he says. 

“I also hope he’s having a good time. It’d be cool to learn more about what happened with the lions, I guess, but isn’t that just… I don’t know, knowing the differences in other realities is hard enough as it is sometimes and I don’t know if I can take another loss here. The lions are gone, that’s that. We watched them go. They didn’t leave in other realities. Some of the good things here in this universe are probably missing from others so I don’t… I don’t want to examine it too closely, Curtis. I’m happy here. I’m happy with what we have. I’m sorry.”

Curtis, to his credit, doesn’t react. Shiro tears at the pizza crust left on his plate and wants to go to bed so desperately… 

“I think you could be happier,” Curtis says, voice just loud enough to be heard and not a single decibel higher. 

“What?” Shiro snaps. He feels bad for snapping right away but he’s running low on his impulsive apology allowance for the night…

Curtis rolls his eyes and shoves his nearly empty plate away from him. “You’ve left a lot of things behind and sometimes I wonder if…” he trails off.

“If what?” Shiro challenges.

“If you quit things when you should have just taken a break.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Shiro says, though the blood rushing in his ears almost drowns out the sound of his own voice.

Is that the end point? Is that the conclusion he’s been refusing to reach? 

“It does,” Curtis says. 

“Your whole career is here and that’s more important.” Shiro can’t help but sound bitter, he’s spiraling out.

Curtis scowls. “You really think I’d prioritize my career over your well-being?”

The roaring subsides. Shiro looks at Curtis.

“I wouldn’t,” Curtis says. “I won’t.”

“You think I’d prioritize my well-being over yours?” Shiro asks, feeling bare. He’d never do that. 

Curtis looks relieved. He leans closer and presses his forehead against Shiro’s. “We can talk and compromise and figure things out, baby, we can prioritize a balance.”

“Yeah,” Shiro breathes, eyes falling closed.

“If you’re truly happy here, I’ll drop it. If you need more time to figure things out, I’ll ease up,” Curtis says, squeezing the back of Shiro’s neck affectionately.

“Thank you.”

“What do you need from me?”

“I need some time to figure things out.”

Curtis’s nod moves Shiro’s head too. “Should I call the surrogacy agency?”

“No. But if you want to pause on the baby stuff, we can…”

“I don’t want to.”

Shiro laughs. “We keep having this conversation.”

“Maybe I’m a little scared,” Curtis says, laughing too.

“Atlas has a fully operating nursery on-board,” Shiro says sheepishly.

“Yeah, she does.” 

“Would you be okay going back?”

“I’d love to go back, I miss it too,” Curtis says with no hesitation. 

Shiro pulls back to look him in the eye, to search him for any scrap of falsehood. Curtis smiles softly back at him. 

“Are you sure?”

“I’ve been waiting for you to come around and just say what you want, Shiro. I’m sure.”

“I need time…”

“Take all the time you want.”

“Okay.”

“New therapy goals?” Curtis asks. “Getting space-ready?”

“Yeah,” Shiro says through a sheepish smile.

“Hell yeah.”

**

Curtis’s alarm goes off and is silenced immediately, coincided with an irritated grunt. Shiro opens an eye to look at him over the swell of his pillow. Curtis smiles and yawns when he sees him. His hand falls on Shiro’s cheek, fingers working up toward his ear and into the hair behind it. 

“Morning, beautiful,” Curtis murmurs, shifting until his head is beside Shiro’s. Shiro loops an arm around Curtis’ naked waist and grabs his ass instead of a verbal greeting. “Didn’t you get enough last night?” Curtis teases, squirming even closer.

“Never enough.”

“Amen to that.” Curtis nips at Shiro’s jaw, suggestive, but just nestles into his neck. 

Shiro removes his hand from the curve of Curtis’s body only to roll onto his back to check his messages. Curtis blearily watches on beside him. In the middle of reading a faculty newsletter, a new one comes in from Keith.

“Oh, he’s back,” Shiro says. 

Curtis wakes up a little more. “Pictures?” he asks.

Opening it, Shiro sees that Keith had sent it to both him and Curtis. Curtis hides a surprised smile against Shiro’s shoulder. 

_Hey guys!_

_Had a great time. It was really weird meeting myself, but he’s pretty cool. :) The wedding was beautiful and painful and pretty much exactly how you probably imagined. I’ve attached a bunch of pictures but I have more if you want. I included a pic of me and my Shiro, sorry if that’s weird. Speaking of my Shiro, he wants to come visit this reality too. Would you guys be okay meeting him? I’ll be on Earth a lot next month and he’ll be with me for a week. We should get together. If not, I get it. Either way, see you both soon. Hope everything is going well re: baby stuff. Can’t wait for any updates._

_\- Keith_

They scroll through the pictures together, Shiro swallowing against the double-sided joy and heartbreak of seeing Allura again. Sore for Lance at seeing them together, living out the future stolen from them here. Happy beyond measure that a version of her exists out there still at all. 

“Oh wow,” Curtis says when they get to the picture of Keith and his Shiro. 

Wow indeed. Keith looks happier than Shiro has ever seen him. Soft and genuine, love written all over him as he looks up at someone looking back at him with just the same amount of clear adoration. 

“They look good together,” Curtis murmurs, reaching over to zoom in on the other Shiro. “But you’re cuter.”

Shiro laughs. “Thanks, honey.”

Up close, the loving effect is even starker. That Shiro’s face is soft with lids low over bright eyes. A sweet smile curves his lips. His entire body is angled toward Keith.

“That’s how you look at me,” Curtis whispers against Shiro’s ear. 

Shiro feels his face mirroring the smile in the picture. 

“He must really love our Keith,” Curtis says, rolling away onto his back. He hooks his ankle around Shiro’s ankle. 

He must, Shiro thinks. He zooms the picture back out to look at them both together. Both in formal wear, hands clasped as they dance, the background floral and candlelit. Keith is glowing. Of all the times Shiro caught Keith looking at him, he never saw quite that wattage. He must have been even brighter in person. 

Shiro feels relieved. As though the cosmic joke of it came to a resolution and wasn’t a joke after all. If this person looks at Keith that way and Keith looks back...

He scrolls away from the picture and the next and last one is of the two Keiths.

“Jesus, look at that,” Shiro says, the words shocked out of him. Curtis rolls back and hooks his chin over Shiro’s shoulder. They look different enough to tell apart, but with identical smiles. 

“Do you want to meet him?” Curtis asks, referring to the other Shiro and Keith’s question. 

“Yes,” Shiro says, closing the message and rolling to face Curtis. “I think I do.”

Curtis smiles and kisses him. “You’re taking this well.”

“As well as anyone could,” Shiro agrees. 

Curtis’s second alarm goes off and Curtis silences that one too.

“No run today?” Shiro asks. 

“Nah, wanna spend time with the hotter Shiro before work.”

Shiro tugs him into a kiss, unable to stop laughing. There are times with Curtis where he feels like all his dreams about marriage came true. And there are times when he discovers just how much he’d underestimated how loved he’d feel or how much he could possibly love. Sometimes he just sees all the ways being married is the hardest thing he’s ever done. Even harder than saving the universe but just as gratifying. It’s something that belongs just to them. Them and their future child. 

Thinking that way makes Shiro deepen the kiss, imparting everything he possibly can into it as he presses Curtis into the mattress. Staying in bed as long as they possibly can on a weekday morning just like this is one of those dreams that comes true again and again. 

Shiro knows Keith thinks they’re boring. He’s never said it specifically but Shiro can read Keith. Between the Garrison and their lives together, between planning for a child and moving along the slow path of healing, between setting goals and striving toward them… Shiro is never bored. 

Having someone to grow and change with was another one of the dreams. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided they have a cat but didn't want to do anything to talk about the cat. Imagine Shiro with a cat and let that lift your spirits as it lifts mine.


End file.
